


It's the Way I Fell For You

by A_Little_Boosh_Maid



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV), The Mighty Boosh RPF
Genre: 1990s, Adventure, Age Difference, Alien Planet, Alternate Universe, Angst, Animal Attack, Animals, Artists, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bad Poetry, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Boxing Day, Boy Scouts, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, College, Coming Out, Dating, Difficult Decisions, Dirty Talk, Domestic Fluff, Dreamsharing, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Explicit Consent, Falling In Love, Fashion & Couture, Father Figures, First Dates, First Meetings, Forbidden Love, Forests, Happy Ending, High School, Illegal Activities, Letters, M/M, Magical Realism, Meet the Family, Misunderstandings, Parent-Child Relationship, Phone Calls & Telephones, Promises, Prophecy, References to Entire Franchise, Reunions, Revelations, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Safe Sane and Consensual, Same-Sex Marriage, Scars, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Spies & Secret Agents, Stalking, Teen Crush, Travel, Underwear Kink, Vince is sort of underage but not exactly?, Warnings Given in Summaries and Tags, Weddings, Writers, books and songs affect people's choices, it's actually super fluffy, not as creepy as it sounds, not really a dirty story, references to real life, we learn how Howard's life was saved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-04-08 11:30:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 151,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19106227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Little_Boosh_Maid/pseuds/A_Little_Boosh_Maid
Summary: In "Party", Howard said he was ten years older than Vince. The simple premise to this story: what if they really did have a ten year age gap? And then, just to make the thought experiment a little more interesting: what if it was ordained that at least one of them had to be at school when they met?





	1. A Fervid Image of Another World

**Author's Note:**

> Hello baby, hello boy  
> It seems to me we've got it all  
> I like to run but I take it back  
> I'm too young, don't care about that  
> It's the way I fell for you 
> 
> The Way I Fell For You – Saint Etienne 
> 
> A fervid image of another world  
> Is nothing in particular now  
> And imitation comes naturally ...  
> And everyone is a clever clone 
> 
> Popscene – Blur 
> 
> Noel used to stalk me. We first met when he kept turning up at my gigs like an ominous white face at the back of the room. And when I was finished, he’d be gone. I’d get backstage and ask, "Who was that mysterious stranger?". ~ Julian Barratt   
> 
> People kind of say that I stalked Julian. It’s a rumour. He stalked me. No, what happened was that I went to see him ... because I liked him. ~ Noel Fielding

This is fucking mental, Vince thought to himself.

He was standing outside a jazz club in Stoke Newington, and he had no idea what he was doing there. And why he had come? Well, that part made no sense at all ...

**********************************************

When Vince got back from college that afternoon, he'd thrown himself on the bed, and rather than making a start on his homework, he'd begun flicking through that week's _Time Out_ someone had left lying around. Last year he had always looked in _Time Out_ as if he was going to do something really exciting, and every week he ended up doing the same old things. It felt as if there was so much to do in London that his brain couldn't process any of it.

Vince thought his mind must have given up already, because he was looking at an article about a jazz club in Stoke Newington called The Blue Aubergine. Jazz, that's well boring, thought Vince. He didn't know anything about jazz, but it sounded like something people listened to a hundred years ago, like in the 1950s or something.

He turned the page and read about an art installation on the South Bank. Except ... he turned back to the jazz club article, and looked at the picture. A jazz band was going to play there tonight, some part of his brain informed him. He didn't care. He wasn't interested. The jazz band looked like a bunch of scruffy old men. He turned lots of pages over and started looking at the cinema listings.

Except ... he turned back to the jazz club article again. Well, there was one of them who didn't look that old. He didn't have grey hair anyway, although he did have a couple of lines around his eyes. So still pretty old. Anyway, he was boring and scruffy. And he wasn't good looking either, not Vince's idea of good looking. He just looked like anyone. Just a sort of generic face. Nothing stood out about it, except maybe his moustache.

Vince's brain, which was really being very stubborn about this whole thing and was starting to get on his nerves, insisted on reading the caption that identified the band members of Up Down and Sideways, and it said the man on the far left of the picture was named Howard Moon. Great thanks for that brain, Vince thought sarcastically. More useless information to clutter up my mind-tank. Howard Moon, kind of a weird name. He wasn't going to think about him any more.

He tossed aside _Time Out_ and started reading the latest _NME_ , which was full of the rivalry between Blur and Oasis. Vince was definitely a Blur man, and had already bought _The Great Escape_ : buying it had felt as if he was making a statement of some kind. Vote 1 Blur. Blur Needs You. Blur For Britpop Victory ... Vince teetered between wanting to be Damon, and wanting to have Damon.

I'd love to look like that, Vince thought, as he examined Damon's face on the front cover. Pretty, but sort of tough as well; his lips saying _kiss me_ and his eyes saying _fuck you_. Vince looked at his own face in the wardrobe mirror for a bit, but his lips and eyes didn't seem to be saying anything like that. Vince briefly wondered what it would be like to kiss Damon, before veering back and wishing he could be the frontman for some cool band as well.

And then for some reason, Vince picked up _Time Out_ from the floor where it had fallen, and went back to the jazz club article so he could look at the photo again. And despite jazz being boring, and Vince not being interested in jazz clubs, and the man being old and unattractive and scruffy, not anything like Damon, and having a weird sort of name, Vince quite unaccountably tore the article out of the magazine. He folded it up and shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans, and then he returned _Time Out_ to the common room as if had nothing to do with him.

  
***********************************************

So that was all pretty mental, Vince considered. But then the really mental part came much later when Vince found himself on a bus going to Stoke Newington. He barely knew how it had happened. It was around nine o'clock, and he went outside for a walk, and just as he reached the phone box on the corner he'd seen the bus coming, and he got on it. Straight away, he knew he was making a mistake, so he got off at the next bus stop. The bus driver must have thought he was mental, catching a bus for a distance he could have walked.

He'd sat at the bus stop wondering what he was doing, then ten minutes later the next bus had pulled up, so he got on it and continued to Stoke Newington. He had done that a couple more times, getting off the bus then back on the next one, until he had arrived in Stoke Newington, and it was now quite late. He'd found the jazz club easily. It was a small place, blue painted brick with black trim, old and shabby looking.

It was fucking mental, and he had no idea what he was doing. But he was here now, and there was nobody outside the jazz club, just a chalkboard with the name of the jazz band on it, so he walked in through the door. He stood there for a minute, lost. There weren't many people in the club, and they were standing around in small groups. It felt like the end of a party, and he was a late gatecrasher.

A stout fatherly-looking man with a grey beard, dressed all in black, suddenly rushed over to him, saying, "Hey son, you can't come in here on your own".

"I just wanted to see the band", Vince said, giving his smile that adults seemed to like.

"They've already finished their set", the man said.

"Well, could I ... could I see them backstage or something?", Vince asked.

"What for?", asked the man, clearly confused. Although, no more confused than Vince was himself.

"To ... to get an autograph?".

The man looked suddenly indulgent.

"Oh, you're a fan", he said. "Well, we need young jazz fans. Whose autograph did you want, and I'll find out if it's okay?".

"Um ... Howard Moon's", said Vince, feeling completely mental. He was asking for the autograph of a man he didn't know and didn't care about, and he had no idea why.

"The trumpet players are always the glamour boys", the man said with a wry smile. "I bet you're a Miles Davis fan, aren't you?".

Vince made a noncommittal humming noise. He didn't know who Miles Davis was.

The man led Vince to the backstage area, nostalgically recounting the time he had hung around for hours to get Dave Brubeck's autograph.

"I was probably even younger than you at the time", he went on. "I suppose you're at the art school, are you?".

Vince agreed that he was.

"Yeah, thought you looked the type", the man said, not unpleasantly.

Vince gave the man another of his adult-pleasing smiles, which sometimes brought out their paternal or maternal instincts, and perhaps occasionally, something a little darker than that.

"You mustn't think that I don't like youngsters", the man suddenly said. "I've got five kids, and my youngest is around your age. You're just not meant to be in here on your own, and it's not always safe around this area at night. I'll take you backstage and stay with you, and make sure you get home okay, alright?".

Vince thanked the fatherly man, saying he wasn't on his own _now_ , was he?

"What's your name, son?", the man asked, just as they got to the dressing room. "Vince Noir? Okay, I'll talk to Howard and ask him about the autograph, tell him you're a fan. But if he says no, don't make a fuss. Just leave quietly, and I'll get you a taxi home".

Vince stood in the doorway of the dressing room, watching the man talk in a low voice to Howard. They had their backs to Vince, and Howard was taller than Vince had realised. Vince could just hear the grey-bearded man say, _a big fan of yours_.

Howard turned around sharply with a look of surprise, and he and Vince stared at each other. It was only for a second, but Vince looked straight into Howard's baffled brown eyes.

Vince suddenly felt like a fool. The man would think he was a stupid kid, and he'd find out Vince knew nothing about jazz and had never heard the band before, couldn't name even one of their songs. He would think Vince was completely mental, and Vince could only concur, he was mental. Totally barking mad.

This probably explained why his heart was banging away in his chest, and why he turned and ran away as fast as he could. He ignored the fatherly man calling out for him to wait up, Howard didn't mind, it was no problem, and he ran through the club and out the door into the street.

He kept on running, his feet and heart thudding at the same rate.

*************************************************

Vince had run and run for ages, until he saw a bus that went past his boarding house, and had jumped on, panting for breath with his ribs aching. It was late when he got home, but not yet midnight, so he had made curfew.

The next morning, he decided he must have gone temporarily insane, and would never think about jazz or Howard Moon or Stoke Newington ever again. He had plenty to think about anyway. The college term had just begun, and he had classes and homework and loads of stuff on his mind. He had at least two major projects to work on, and was already behind on his reading.

Which was all very sensible of Vince, but it didn't explain why, in Maths class, he furtively took the magazine article out of his jeans pocket and looked at the picture of Howard. He kept thinking how tall Howard was, and how he had turned around, and looked into his eyes ... they were small eyes, but they were gentle and intelligent, and there was something a bit sad about them.

It is surprising how much you can remember about eyes you only looked into for a second.

**************************************************

"Vince!".

"Hm, what?", Vince mumbled at lunchtime.

"Vince, that's the third time I've said something to you, you berk", complained Leroy. "You haven't been listening to a word I've said".

"Sorry, my mouth was full", Vince said.

"You've been the same all morning", Leroy said. "You haven't said more than two words to me since we got up. Aren't you talking to me or something?".

"Leroy, what do you think of jazz?", Vince asked.

"What's jazz got to do with anything?", Leroy said with a frown. I think you'll agree with him that the subject of conversation had been introduced very abruptly.

"I'm just interested".

"Well it's clever, complicated music, isn't it?", said Leroy a trifle disparagingly. "It's not like folk music – that's pure and simple, the music of the people. Anyone can enjoy folk".

"So only really clever people understand jazz?", said Vince, his heart sinking. He was sure a jazz musician would think he was really thick.

"Yes, exactly", said Leroy. "That's why I'm going to be a folk singer. No showing off, or having to get a degree to enjoy the music".

"I like glam rock and glam metal", said Vince, thinking of some of his favourite artists. "Maybe we could form a glam-folk duo together. You know, combine them in some way".

"What, like sing _Scarborough Fair_ but in Kiss make-up or something?", said Leroy with a laugh.

"Yeah, or ... I dunno ... sing _Breaking The Law_ , but all folky and that", grinned Vince.

The two friends launched into a folk version of Judas Priest's _Breaking the Law_ , giggling and pulling faces, until the group of people next to them told them to shut up.

**************************************************

Vince had finished his last class for the day and was walking across campus when he saw ... oh no, it _couldn't_ be. But it was. A tall man, the back of his head all messy brown curls. It was _him_. Even from behind, Vince knew who it was. He recognised those shoulders, both broad and hunched over. What the _fuck_ was he doing at Vince's college?

Howard was talking to a teacher named Ms Kittson. Vince squeezed his thin body behind a tree, hiding himself, and straining to hear what was being said.

"Er, I'm looking for my ... um, nephew. He's called ... Vance?", Howard said uncertainly.

"Did you say Vance?", asked Ms Kittson. "I'm not sure ...".

"Er Vince, my nephew Vince", Howard corrected himself. "It's my accent, you might have thought I said Vance".

"And you are?".

"His uncle ... Uncle Boris", Howard extemporised.

"Look, Mr ...?".

"Post Office", said Howard wildly.

Vince gave a snort of laughter from behind the tree.

Ms Kittson furrowed her brow.

"Your name is Boris Post Office?", she said sceptically.

"No ... er, Boris Postov", said Howard. "It's Russian".

"You don't have a Russian accent", said Ms Kittson suspiciously. "I would have said you were from Yorkshire".

"Er yes, very large Russian community in Yorkshire", explained Howard. "Very large, very welcoming, and very well-assimilated, hence the Yorkshire accent".

"Now Mr Postov, I'm afraid we can't give out personal information about our ...".

But Vince didn't wait to hear any more, he headed back to the boarding house, walking as fast as possible.

Howard had come looking for him. Vince had gone looking for Howard first and barged in on him, but this was different. Howard had followed Vince. He knew his name, and where he went to college. He had said he was Vince's Uncle Boris, which was well dodgy.

Vince couldn't help feeling scared, but also rather intrigued. What was this man up to, following a kid to his school and pretending to be his uncle? What did he want with Vince?

Vince suddenly giggled. Boris Post Office, his Russian uncle! He's _mental_ , even more mental than I am, thought Vince. That should have made Vince frightened, that he was being followed by a madman, but instead it made him feel a bit warmer and more comfortable inside. At least he wasn't the only one who was mental.

He broke into a run, running home faster and faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an alternate world which is a strange sort of cross between our universe and that of The Boosh. It's set in an alternate London, an alternate UK, and an alternate 1990s. Being a bit closer to the real world, Howard and Vince are probably slightly more like Julian and Noel, but I'll try not to let it get it too RPF-y. But just in case, I'm crossposting this as RPF. I'm all over the shop. 
> 
> The "NME" that Vince reads with Damon Albarn on the cover is the issue which came out on Saturday 16 September 1995. So now you know what month and year it is. 
> 
> I started writing this story last year, but stopped because I worried it was unpublishable. I've started writing it again if only for my own pleasure. I'm afraid it doesn't have any particular literary merit to absolve it – I started writing it as pulp fiction, only to find that's actually really hard to do (they have plots and word limits and writing schedules and all sorts). Now it's probably going to be an excuse to use all my favourite tropes and cliches. In this chapter, one of my favourite romance tropes: "I don't find this person even slightly attractive, yet somehow I can't stop thinking about them. Damn that average-looking jerk I don't care about".
> 
> Anyway, all feedback welcomed. Feel free to say if you think it needs more/less tags and warnings or a different rating; these things will get added and updated as I go. It might get edited or even taken down.


	2. Girls & Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince isn't sure that Howard can be trusted, and comes up with a dopey plan to get his mind off him. Warnings: There's some mild implied violence, and mild non-con stuff, nothing too drastic (probably all of it T-rated).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girls who are boys  
> Who like boys to be girls  
> Who do boys like they're girls  
> Who do girls like they're boys
> 
> Girls & Boys – Blur 
> 
> I did work in a bakery for one day. But the boss went off, and when he came back I was lying on the floor eating cakes. ~ Noel Fielding

"So Vince, how has it been, my child?".

Vince shifted the phone receiver to his other ear, and cradled it on his shoulder.

"How's what been, Bryan?".

"My child, how has college been? The new term?", Bryan said.

"Oh you know ... alright", muttered Vince.

"Vince my child, you sound as if you have something on your mind", Bryan said with a note of concern.

"Nah, you know my mind, Bryan. Nothing much going on there", Vince smiled into the receiver.

"A foster-father always knows, my child", said Bryan wisely. "If there is nothing on your mind, then there must be something in your heart".

"It's just ... you know. College and stuff. Uh, lots of pressure", Vince said vaguely.

"You have never felt pressured by school before", said Bryan. "I have many, many school reports to back me up on that. They all say you have in fact taken things a little too easily, my child".

"Well ... it's the final year, ain't it?", said Vince. "It's bloody hard work now".

"Vince my child, please do not swear", Bryan reprimanded him. "That is not nice; I did not raise you that way. You may think swear words in the privacy of your own mind, but don't speak them out loud to others. And remember to say _isn't_ or _is no_ t, not _ain't_ ".

Vince congratulated himself on getting Bryan completely side-tracked, and off the topic of Vince sounding like he had something on his mind.

"Sorry Bryan, won't do it again. Anyway, I have to go to work now", said Vince, feeling guilty that he was glad of an excuse to get his foster-father off the phone.

After their goodbyes, Vince hung up the phone, which was in the hallway of his boarding house where anyone could listen in, and frequently did. He wished Bryan could get internet access so they could email each other, but there was no chance of that where Bryan lived.

***********************************************

Vince's Saturday morning job was working in a bakery about ten minutes walk from his boarding house. He had got it on the strength of having done something similar for his work experience when he was fourteen – he kept quiet about the fact that he'd got sacked from the earlier bakery on the first day, after being found lying on the floor eating cake. Apparently a little mid-morning rest and snack wasn't viewed favourably by the management.

Mrs Andrews was a more lenient boss, willing to overlook Vince's slightly scatterbrained ways and tendency to lose track of what he was doing. She thought Vince had a lovely smile, and was very good with customers; a nice polite good-looking boy who could talk to people was a real asset for the business. She was prepared to keep an eye on him and make sure nothing too terrible happened otherwise.

The morning had been busy, with the bell over the door jingling every few minutes as another customer entered. It was just before midday when things slowed down slightly, and Vince began arranging a tray of fresh fairy cakes in the glass display cabinet, under Mrs Andrews' watchful gaze.

"You're doing a good job, Vince; just be a bit more careful not to crowd them there, love", she advised him.

Vince concentrated even harder on what he was doing. When the bell jingled, he didn't look up immediately, even when the customer cleared his throat.

"Can I help you, sir?", asked Mrs Andrews briskly.

"Oh well, actually ...", the man began.

Shit it was _him_ , thought Vince in shock.

He looked up and saw Howard, who gave Vince a sideways glance before determinedly looking at some little buns.

Vince dropped the last few fairy cakes on the floor, and hastily scooped them up in his hands before dashing into the kitchen at the back. His heart was pounding so hard that he had to lie down. He felt faint: he hadn't eaten breakfast that morning.

Vince began stuffing the dropped fairy cakes into his mouth, trying to calm himself down. They had pink icing covered in hundreds and thousands, for the hundreds of reasons why Vince should stop thinking about Howard, and the thousands of reasons why Howard should stop following him around.

A few minutes later, Mrs Andrews came into the kitchen to check on Vince, and found him lying on the floor, eating cake.

************************************************

Mrs Andrews had been far more understanding than the last bakery where Vince had been caught lying down eating cake. She was worried that he might be ill, felt his forehead, and told him that he was probably starving himself half to death, like most skinny artistic teenagers, and no doubt his blood sugar levels had plummeted to dangerous levels.

Vince had gone from expecting to get the sack to expecting to be sent home to rest with a lecture about healthy diet, and not eating food that had been dropped on the floor.

"Vince, has that man ever ... bothered you before?", Mrs Andrews asked him.

Vince gave her the widest-eyed, most innocent look he could muster.

"No Mrs Andrews, that was the first time I ever saw him". It was almost true – it was the first time he had been face to face with Howard. Vince had felt very aware of Howard's height and breadth, standing so close to him. He had been too shy to look into Howard's eyes, but Vince knew that he had dark stubble on his chin and throat.

"You seemed upset when he came in – is that why you dropped the cakes?", she went on.

"No, he just startled me. I'm sorry I dropped them Mrs Andrews; I'll pay for the cakes if you want".

"There's no need for that, love. And next time you're hungry, I can give you food that _hasn't_ fallen on the floor".

"Thank you Mrs Andrews. You're very good to me".

"And Vince – if that man tries to talk to you, I'd be careful if I were you. There was something about the way he looked at you that I didn't like".

Vince promised he would beware of Howard, and Mrs Andrews sent him home early to get some rest, after lecturing him about eating a healthier diet and not skipping breakfast, even if he did have a phone call from his foster-father.

Vince walked back to the boarding house slowly, almost expecting to be accosted by Howard at some point, even dragged into a waiting car and driven away. Or maybe a van – it was always a van in police reports.

Howard was definitely following Vince. He had come to his school, and into his work, looking for him. Vince didn't know why, except that Mrs Andrews seemed to think he might be a pervert who liked teenage boys. Somehow that thought made Vince's heart beat faster again, although he didn't know if it was from fear or excitement.

Vince couldn't help feeling disappointed that there was no sign of Howard at all.

*************************************************

Another week of college went by. A week made up of days where Vince woke, washed, dressed. Classes, meals, homework, telly, bed.

Vince didn't see Howard, and told himself he wouldn't think about him again. He did though. Even while washing, dressing, classes and so on, at the back of his mind there was always Howard, like a tune he couldn't get out of his head. Every day he kept looking for him, fearing, or perhaps hoping, that he would see Howard walking down the street towards him, following him home from school, maybe even knocking on the door of the boarding house and asking to speak to Vince.

Vince began to think he really needed some distraction from all this thinking.

*************************************************

"Go on, Leroy".

"We'll never be allowed".

"I heard last year – they don't check or nothing. They let anyone in".

"We'll get expelled".

"It'll be amazing".

Vince's idea of a good distraction was that he and Leroy would go to the student bar on the next college campus – the part of the art college that was for young adults doing their degrees, while Vince and Leroy were at the part for school students working towards their diplomas.

Last year, he had been told by students in their final year of art school that it was well easy to get into the college bar: they only rarely bothered to check student ID cards upon entry. You would need to show an ID card to buy alcohol, but it was easy enough to get older college students to buy it for you. From this you might deduce that it had been girls who had shared their information with Vince.

Whether this was a rumour put about to impress gullible sixteen-year-olds, Vince wasn't completely sure, but he thought it was worth finding out. If it turned out to be a myth, he would have fun impressing another year of gullible sixteen-year-olds with it.

"What if we miss curfew? We'll be locked out of the boarding house".

"We'll leave our bedroom window open a bit, and climb in".

"I think you might be a bad influence on me, Vince".

"Yeah I know – brilliant, isn't it?", said Vince with a grin. "Come on, I'll help you get ready".

Vince was already well known at college for his interest in clothes and beauty. He had done a vocational certificate in hairdressing in high school, and was hoping to study fashion design next year. As soon as he'd got to art school and was free of school uniforms, he'd begun experimenting with his look, and learned to apply make-up by copying his favourite rock stars. The results were a little hit-and-miss so far, but he was only young.

"Not too much muck in my hair", Leroy warned, as Vince lightly scrunched styling foam into his brown curls.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're Mr Natural", said Vince. "We've got to try to look as if we're college students though. The girls will go nuts over you, with your curls and rosy cheeks".

Leroy gave a snort of disbelief.

"It'll be you getting all the girls, Vince".

Vince picked up an eyeliner, and looked coy.

"Dunno about that. I mean, what if I wanted a boy instead?".

"What boy?", demanded Leroy.

"Nobody pacific. I'm just asking, what would you say about that?".

"I'd say you've had a lot of girls for a gay bloke", said Leroy. "I mean, you had more than thirty girlfriends last year".

"I didn't say I was _gay_ ", Vince said. "You can like girls _and_ boys. There's a song about it".

"You mean you've gone through all the good-looking girls in our class, so now you're going to go through all the good-looking guys?".

"Oh I don't want anyone in our class", said Vince tactlessly. "I think I'd prefer someone older".

"That's probably better, because then they could buy you a drink at the bar", said Leroy practically.

"But what do you think about it, about me getting with a man?".

"Vince, we're at art college – you're not going to have any problem getting a boyfriend if you want one", said Leroy.

"What about you, Leroy? Would you ever get with a boy?".

Leroy thought for a moment.

"Maybe. If he was the right one. I mean, I wouldn't turn someone down just because he was a bloke".

"Yeah, what if it was Damon Albarn? You couldn't turn that down".

"I don't really like Damon, he seems like a right bastard", said Leroy. "I'd prefer Alex James, if I had to have someone from the band".

"Oh wow, you and Alex would make the most adorable couple!", squealed Vince. "You're both so cute".

Leroy's cheeks blushed rosier, and Vince said he could borrow one of Vince's waistcoats, wearing it buttoned up with no shirt underneath. He had seen lots of the college students dressed that way. Leroy objected that he would get cold, but Vince said it was only five minutes walk, and the bar would be hot inside.

Half an hour later, Vince and Leroy inspected themselves in the wardrobe mirror; Vince had his arm affectionately around Leroy, and they had their faces pressed close together, so they could both fit in the mirror. Leroy's brown-sugar curls nestled against Vince's honey-blond mop. Leroy had Vince's waistcoat on, and Vince wore a black and white striped blouse with his jeans. He had slipped a pair of brogues on his feet: a nod to the latest Mod Revival.

"Don't we look pretty?", Vince said.

"I just know we're going to get expelled", Leroy said.

**************************************************

Vince's informants had told him the truth. Nobody checked their ID cards when they walked into the bar, and they didn't look much younger than a lot of the college students. Vince pulled Leroy straight onto the dance floor, thinking they were less likely to stand out in a crowd than hanging around by themselves. They began dancing together to Supergrass' _Alright_.

They were quickly joined by a group of girls, who danced with them and gave them sips from their drinks. Vince must have been right about the devastating effect Leroy's curls and cheeks would have on the female population, because quite early one of the girls took possession of him, and led him into a dark corner so they could snog by themselves.

Vince was happy to keep dancing with the rest of the girls, kissing each of them in turn while they danced, and sometimes the girls kissed each other. Either way was good, Vince didn't mind. There was a song about that.

A group of boys came over to dance with them, offering to buy them all drinks. The first girl asked for a Flirtini, and Vince asked for one too, as he didn't know what else to say. The Flirtini was a yellow fluffy-looking cocktail with a cherry in it. He liked the taste of it: it was sweet and sunshiney, and made him feel as if life would always be young and free and alright. The boys bought him all the Flirtinis he wanted.

He danced with the boys and the girls. Sometimes he kissed a girl, sometimes a boy. Sometimes the girls kissed each other. Vince drifted between the dancers, his mouth on the softer lips of the girls which smeared lipstick on him, then on the boys, whose mouths were harder and more demanding. He felt hands caressing him, sometimes from several directions at once, and he wasn't sure if they belonged to boys or girls. He didn't really mind, and somehow this felt greatly profound. He caressed in turn, and didn't always know who he was touching.

Vince loses all sense of time, and now he no longer knows if the girls and boys he is dancing with are the same ones. He has an idea these might be different people, and it feels as if some of the girls have left or moved away. Vince wonders if he is now just dancing with boys and kissing them: some have soft lips like girls, which is confusing. Sometimes the boys pull Vince close to their bodies and rub their hips against him. He asks for, and receives, another Flirtini. This time someone has to hold the drink up to his lips, which makes Vince giggle helplessly.

The air becomes colder, and the music more distant. The beat sounds a long way away, and now people's voices, which he couldn't distinguish before, are much clearer. There are less people here, and he thinks there aren't any girls any more, the voices are all quite deep. He doesn't know how he got here, but in the back of his mind there is a dim memory of being pulled or dragged with bodies against his. Vince sways, as if he might fall down, and somebody taller than him holds him upright.

"Is this one a boy or a girl?".

A hand goes between his legs.

"A boy ... an' he likes it, the dirty little prick". A rough laugh.

Somebody complains about Vince being a boy.

"For fuck's sake, a hole's a hole", says the voice louder and more confident than the others.

The complaining voice whines, then yelps as if it's been struck.

Somebody either helps or forces Vince to lie down and rolls him over. He can feel there is damp ground beneath him, the smell of earth and grass and dead leaves. And then there is a great bellow, a voice filled with an almost primal rage, and the person yelling must have something frightening about them, because instead of them all turning on him, there is a wild scattering.

Somebody has taken Vince by the hand. It's a large hand, and it is helping Vince to get up, and leading him away. Vince's legs are weak beneath him, and he is lifted into strong arms and carried like a rag doll. His head lolls against a deep chest, and there are only dim impressions. Shoe heels on pavement, a dull hard sound. Stripes of light, then darkness; light, darkness. A heart beating against him. Warm breath.

A metallic sound as a door opens, and Vince is placed on a seat, helped to sit up. Strong hands are strapping him in.

"Wait there", a deep voice says, far above him.

Vince thinks he can hardly do anything else, strapped down as he is. The door closes with a metallic sound.

Vince's last thought before losing consciousness is that he's been abducted in a van. It's always a bloody van, he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clapton Art College is only very vaguely inspired by The Croydon School of Art, where Noel studied. Vince's college needed to be in East London, and completely fictional, plus you get a nice little musical reference from it. From minor details in the story, you can basically work out where it is located in Clapton. It was actually a very rough area in the 1990s - the main street was known as Murder Mile - and not all that suitable for an art school; the personal safety concerns in the story are completely justified.
> 
> Vince's student boarding house is mostly inspired by a boarding house near my boarding school. It was for young people aged 16-21 who had left school to go to technical college, or apprenticeships, or were in employment, and were living away from their families. It looked like a real dump, but featured heavily in my fantasy life as somewhere way cooler and more interesting than boarding school (it probably wasn't really). Apart from that, it combines my memories of boarding school, university accommodation, and youth hostels. It offers Vince a possibly shocking amount of freedom, but after all, most of the students who live there would be adults attending the main college campus – I feel that Vince and Leroy are unusual to be school-aged and living at the boarding house, and they end up being treated as if they are adults too.


	3. Pleased to Meet You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a simple boy meets bloke story ... so boy meets bloke. And Vince learns about the unconventional Howard Moon methods of detective work and medical assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm never sure why I need you  
> Pleased to meet you
> 
> Song 2 – Blur 
> 
> I joined Scouts and I’d done one week of it, and then "The Six Million Dollar Man" came on at the same time, so I had to cancel Scouts. ~ Julian Barratt

Vince woke in a bed that was not his own. It was a double bed, which was a dead giveaway he wasn't at the boarding house. The pillow was soft and comfortable under his head, and the sheets on the bed were crisp, and smelt freshly washed. Yeah, definitely not the boarding house.

When he opened his eyes, his first thought was that it was the brownest room he'd ever been in. The walls were beige, the carpet was cappuccino, the furniture was dark oak, the sheets and pillows were caramel, the blankets were chocolate, and the duvet was mocha. It felt being encased in a cocoa bean.

There were no pictures on the walls, and nothing on the bedside table except a lamp with a sepia-toned shade, a glass of water, a dark brown clock, a brown comb, and a pair of nail scissors with a brown handle. It was neat and clean, and felt masculine, but there was nothing personal in the room that could tell him anything else about its owner.

An older person might have guessed that it was the bedroom of a bachelor who had been comfortably single for some time, was used to taking care of himself, and valued his privacy, but Vince hadn't been in enough bedrooms to make this assessment.

The old-fashioned clock on the bedside table told him it was a little after six-thirty, and when he got out of bed and pushed aside the nutmeg curtains, he could see that this was the third storey of a building, and too high for him to safely jump out the window and escape. Outside was an East London street, not much different from the one he lived on.

Bits of the night before began to come back to him. He had been drunk, and dancing, and kissing a bunch of people, both male and female. Everything had been cool, everyone had been friendly. But then some men had taken him outside, saying he needed fresh air, and then he'd had to lie down. A prickle down his spine told him the men had been dangerous. The next thing he knew, he'd woken up in a stranger's bed.

Fucking hell, that sounded bad.

He remembered a man putting their hand into his, then picking him up and carrying him. Their hand had felt very big, their arms had felt very strong. They had put him in their van, and done up the seatbelt, and told him to wait. The next thing he knew, he had woken up in their bed.

Fucking hell. That _really_ sounded bad. He'd been kidnapped by a stranger, and didn't know why. The man could be a pervert, could be a killer. Could be keeping Vince here until he was ready to do to him whatever perverted killers do to people. Well kill them, obviously, but how that happened and where the perverted stuff fitted into it was a nightmarish unknown.

Footsteps outside, the door creaked open a little. Either the polite sliver of open door someone uses to check on their guest without waking them, or the creepy peephole amount of open door which means a pervert is furtively watching you, gloating over having you in their bed.

Vince grabbed the nearest weapon to hand, feeble as it was, and brandished it before him.

"Don't try anything mate, or I'll cut you! I'll come at you like a Cockney bitch!", Vince threatened.

"What are you planning to do – comb me to death?", said the man's voice. He sounded irritable.

It was _him_. It was Howard. He was there in the room, looking a bit grumpy.

Vince realised he'd grabbed the plastic comb rather than the nail scissors, and felt foolish, but he wasn't giving up that easily.

"Yeah well, thought you could use a comb", he muttered. "Your hair looks a right mess".

Howard's brown curls were indeed rumpled, and he looked bleary-eyed. You would think from looking at him that it had been Howard who had got horribly drunk the night before.

"You can talk", retorted Howard. "What do you think you looked like, last night?".

"Yeah about that", said Vince. "Why did you bring me here?".

"You looked awful", said Howard bluntly. "You were passed out drunk, and freezing cold. I've got some basic medical training, and thought I'd better take you back to my place, warm you up, and keep an eye on you while you slept it off".

"Where's Leroy?", Vince demanded. "Why didn't you take me home?".

"I found your friend at the bar, and gave him a lift", said Howard tiredly. "He was very worried when he saw your condition. It seems that as well as being drunk, you also broke curfew, and there was no way I was just tossing your limp body through a window with nobody to care for you except a frightened teenage boy".

"What were you doing there in the first place?", Vince said sullenly.

"Lucky for you that I was", said Howard. Which didn't answer the question at all. It didn't even make grammatical sense.

"You've been following me", accused Vince. "You came to my school".

"Oh you know about that", said Howard without embarrassment. "After you asked for my autograph and then ran away from me, the club owner was worried something terrible had happened to you. He went out into the street, but couldn't find you".

"I can probably run faster than him", Vince said.

"More than likely", Howard agreed, with a quirk of his lip. "All he could remember was that your name was something like Vince or Vance, and that you were at the art school".

"So you pretended to be my Uncle Boris? How was that going to help?".

"Don't ever question the methods of Howard Moon", said Howard sternly. "My detective work may be unorthodox, perhaps even go against the grain of social convention, but it gets results".

"Ms Kittson told you to push off, and that she wasn't saying anything".

"Yes, but if you'd disappeared or been brutally murdered, I would have seen the agony on her face, and she would have been glad to talk to any relative who might help. The fact that she didn't tell me anything meant you were probably okay".

"Then you came into the bakery", Vince continued.

"That was a coincidence", said Howard. "I saw a bakery, and went in to get a cob loaf and a couple of baps. I didn't know you worked there".

"And I suppose you just happened to be outside the student bar too?", said Vince sceptically.

Howard looked troubled.

"Now that I can't really explain", he said. "I'd been thinking about you a lot – you know, worried as to why you ran away, and wondering if you got home safely. I thought that I must have frightened you somehow, and that if anything happened to you, it would all be my fault".

"That's mental", said Vince. "How could it be your fault?".

"Then I saw you in the bakery, so I knew you were safe, although still frightened of me. I should have put you out of my mind, but last night I had the strangest feeling that ... that you were in some sort of danger. Even though I knew it was stupid, I couldn't settle and went for a drive. I ended up near the college, where I saw you walking with your friend Larry - " ...

"Leroy", corrected Vince.

"Leroy, sorry. I watched you go into the bar, which didn't seem like a good idea, so I waited outside in the van. I just wanted to see you come out safely with your friend and go home, but it was late when you came out with three men. It felt wrong, so I followed after them to see that everything was okay. I ...".

Howard seemed to struggle to go on for a moment.

"I lost sight of them for a few minutes. I'm sorry ... if I was too late. Did they hurt you? I couldn't find any sign of injury on you, but ...".

"No, I'm not hurt", said Vince. "You scared them away good and proper".

"I wish I could have done more than that, but they went in all different directions, and you needed help". Howard paused, then added, "I don't think they were from the college; they looked older than that. Probably scum who hang around student bars hoping to take advantage of ... vulnerable younger people".

"You mean, drunk kids like me", said Vince, and Howard flinched.

"Once you were in the van, I did go to the bar to find your friend, and I had a talk to the bar staff about the kinds of people they were letting in by not checking IDs. I'm sorry, but they're probably going to tighten their security up a lot, and I don't think you'll be able to get in any more".

"Probably for the best", admitted Vince. "Is it okay if I get myself cleaned up a bit? I must look a right state".

Howard gave Vince a long, unreadable look. At last he said:

"Nobody deserves to look the way you do after having such a night as you did".

Vince tried to unravel the meaning of this obscure sentence, and then felt rather indignant. Nobody in the world deserved to look as bad as he did after a night of drinking! There was no need for Howard to be _quite_ so insulting.

************************************************

Howard showed Vince the bathroom, where he went to the toilet, and washed his hands and face, scrubbing off the last of his old make up in the process, before fixing up his hair as best he could. Howard didn't seem to have any beauty products more complex than soap, deodorant, toothpaste, and shaving cream – Vince couldn't help being fascinated by Howard's old-fashioned shaving equipment – and he rinsed his mouth out with toothpaste. Vince had a quick look in the mirror, and didn't think he looked too bad: nowhere near as terrible as Howard had made out.

When he came out, feeling slightly better, Howard was still outside the door, as if he'd been standing there, waiting for Vince – or making sure he didn't bolt and run away again.

"Come and have some breakfast", said Howard, ushering Vince ahead of him into the small kitchen. "You should get some food into your stomach as soon as possible".

"You know, I don't really feel hungry in the mornings a lot of the time", said Vince. "I often skip breakfast, or just have a cup of tea".

"I'll get you some fruit salad", said Howard, gesturing for Vince to sit at the table. "The fruit has sugar in it, and that will stimulate your appetite".

Vince sat down facing the kitchen so he could watch Howard, thinking he ate sugar all the time and it didn't seem to make him want to eat more.

"How old are you, Vince?", asked Howard, as he peeled and cut up fruit.

"Seventeen. And four months", added Vince.

"You look young", said Howard, flushing slightly. "I thought you might be even younger than that".

"How old are you?".

"Twenty seven. And nearly five months", said Howard with a little smile.

"You're the same age as Damon Albarn", blinked Vince in astonishment.

"Who?".

"You know, from Blur".

"What?".

"It's a band", explained Vince. "You either love Blur, or love Oasis. You have to pick a side, and I picked Blur. I just bought their latest album".

"Oh ... then I pick Blur too", said Howard.

"Anyway, you're the same age as their frontman Damon Albarn, but you look loads older than he does".

"What, do I look like a hoary old wizard to you or something?", said Howard, sounding displeased.

"Nah it's just that ... I suppose Damon is very boyish-looking, and you look very ... manly", said Vince with downcast eyelashes.

Howard brought the fruit salad over, unable to get a little smirk out of his moustache.

"And you're in your second year at Clapton Art College? What is that, sixth form or something?".

"Um yeah, it's kind of the same, except they don't call it that. I mean, it's more like being in college than school. I'm doing a diploma in Fine Art, and they try to treat us like adults".

Howard raised one eyebrow ironically, before eating his fruit in silence. Vince was enjoying his fruit salad. It had apples, pears, blackberries, grapes, and satsumas in it, and Howard had put a dollop of natural yoghurt on top. Vince licked the yoghurt from the spoon as if was an ice cream cone. Howard looked away when he did that.

"Could you manage some bacon and eggs?", Howard asked, as he cleared the plates away. Then he gave a dubious look at Vince and said, "Or are you a vegetarian?".

"No, I'd like some if that's alright, thanks Howard".

While he watched Howard begin cooking, Vince said, "You weren't far wrong really. My foster-father Bryan is a strict vegetarian, so I ate the same way. But my babysitter Jahooli gave me meat all the time, so I got used to that too".

"Thank goodness for Julie", said Howard, and Vince smiled to himself at how Howard had misheard the name.

"Then I went to boarding school and just ate what they gave us. So I pretty much eat anything".

Howard asked Vince which school he had gone to, and when he named it, Howard looked startled and said, "That's where I went too".

"Could we have been there at the same time?", said Vince, doing maths in his head and getting muddled.

"No, by the time you started at school I'd already left uni and was working", said Howard, pulling another odd unreadable face. Vince couldn't decipher most of Howard's expressions, but hardly any of them really looked happy.

"Oh yeah ... when I was eleven, you were twenty-one", said Vince, finally getting his sums right.

"Is your foster-father ... how do you get on with Bryan?", asked Howard tentatively.

"Good", said Vince. "You remind me of him, actually".

"What? I'm like your _foster-father_?", Howard asked in amazement. Again, he didn't seem happy to hear this.

"Yeah, you know. Similar height and build. Both got darkish hair".

"Oh, I see", said Howard.

"And you both feel ... I dunno ... caring", said Vince, unable to quite find the right word. He just knew there was something about the way Bryan felt about him that was a bit the same as how Howard seemed to feel about him.

"No foster-mother?".

"No. It was always just me and Bryan".

"But your parents ...", began Howard, before breaking off. "Sorry, I'm asking too many questions".

"My parents left me when I was about three", said Vince quietly. "I can't really remember them much, and I don't know anything about them".

"I'm not usually so nosy. Please forgive me", said Howard uncomfortably.

Vince just smiled to let him know it was okay. He was beginning to get the idea that Howard worried a bit too much about everything.

When the bacon and eggs arrived, Vince was glad to see that Howard had given him half the amount on his own plate, in recognition of his smaller appetite.

"That was great, Howard", he said when he'd finished. "I never knew food could taste good like that".

Howard didn't acknowledge the compliment, but made Vince drink a glass of milk. Afterwards Howard carefully wiped a line of leftover milk from Vince's top lip with a paper towel, his face reddening, perhaps at how it might look to someone watching. Vince smiled again to show Howard there was nothing wrong.

After breakfast, Howard made a pot of tea in a brown china teapot, and the two of them washed and dried the dishes together in what already felt like a companionable silence. When Howard poured the tea, he clicked his tongue a bit when Vince put three heaped spoons of sugar into his mug, but didn't say anything.

They sat down at the table together again to drink their tea. Howard held his for warmth, steam rising from the mug in lazy circles. Howard cleared his throat a few times, as if unsure how to start talking again.

Vince waited patiently for him to be ready, his blue eyes looking at Howard steadily. It was like waiting for an animal to feel safe enough to approach you, he thought to himself. Can't be rushed. Let them come to you in their own time.

"Vince, why did you ask for my autograph at the club, then run away from me?", Howard asked eventually.

Vince looked at the table.

"I don't know", he said softly. "I suppose I got scared because I thought you'd think I was a stupid kid".

"Why would you think that?".

"Because ... I don't know anything about jazz".

Howard frowned. "But the club owner said you were a big fan".

"I didn't know anything about you, really", admitted Vince. "Just your name, and that you were going to be at the jazz club that night".

"But then, why did you want my autograph?".

"It was just something to say, so he'd let me see you".

Howard ran his hand through his hair, putting it in even further disarray. It made Vince long to touch it, to neaten it.

"Vince, I'm really confused", he said. "Why did you want to see me?".

"It's going to sound completely mental", said Vince. "I just did, and I don't know why. I saw your picture".

"Where?".

"In _Time Out_. I saw a photo of you with your band, and I kept looking at it, and then I tore the article out so I could keep it, and I ended up going to Stoke Newington so I could see you".

"What was it about the photo that made you feel that way?".

"I don't know", repeated Vince. "It made me think I was going mental, that I couldn't stop thinking about you".

"Well that's very strange, Vince", said Howard thoughtfully. "But then, my own behaviour was strange as well. I couldn't stop thinking about you either, worrying about you, thinking something terrible might happen to you, and then I felt compelled to go to the bar where you were, just as you felt compelled to go to the jazz club".

"Do you think we have some sort of psycho connection?", Vince asked.

"A psychic connection? I would have said before that I didn't believe in such things, but now I'm not sure".

"It's as if I had to go and see you, so you'd save me", said Vince. "Except ... I just remembered. I only went to the college bar because of you".

"And how was I responsible for that?".

"I was driving myself barmy thinking about you all the time, until it was the only thing I could think of to get you out of my head".

"Getting completely wasted?", said Howard. "Trying to blank your mind out?".

"Yeah maybe", said Vince. "Dunno really".

"Was thinking about me so terrible?", asked Howard sadly.

"Only because I didn't know why", said Vince. "Was thinking about me really bad?".

Howard blushed.

"Not all of it. Just the awful worry, the fear that I'd driven you into a dangerous situation. Which it sounds like, I did".

"But you saved me", said Vince. "So it all worked out okay. It's all good".

"Yes, but still ...", Howard said, as if feeling he'd been told a riddle with an answer that made no sense, like, _What's two plus two? Wednesday_.

"What did you do to make me better after you found me outside the bar?", Vince asked. He was very curious abut some of the gaps in his memory.

"I brought you here, I checked you over to see if there were any cuts or bruises - ".

"Under my clothes?", asked Vince with a little smile.

"Naturally. Your pulse was strong, and your breathing seemed fairly normal, but you were very cold, so I put you to bed, and used my body heat to warm you up".

"You mean you got into bed with me and gave me a cuddle?", grinned Vince.

"Certainly not! I can assure you there was no impropriety", said Howard in an offended tone. "I simply placed my arms around you and held you close to my chest and stomach so that you could receive the benefit of my core body temperature".

"Where did you get your medical training? From the Association of Perverted Paramedics?", giggled Vince.

"No, I've got a First Aid badge from the Boy Scouts", said Howard, with a tinge of pride.

"What, _that's_ your medical training?", said Vince. "Next you'll tell me that you did it in the nude".

"Of course I was in the nude – it facilitates the transfer of heat", Howard explained.

Vince thought about how he had spent some time last night being hugged in bed by a large, naked Howard. It was an interesting thought, although he had an idea Mrs Andrews would have her own views on the matter.

"You couldn't have just switched the heating on?", asked Vince innocently, sipping his tea.

"Obviously I put the heating on", Howard snapped. "I was just trying to warm you up as quickly as possible. Once you were properly warm, I got out of bed so you could have all the covers".

"So where did you sleep?", asked Vince.

"On the floor outside the bedroom, wrapped in a rug", said Howard. This probably helped explain why he looked so tired and grouchy when he got up.

"That's mental, you could have just stayed in bed with me and got a proper sleep".

"It would have been inappropriate, and you already seemed frightened of me. I didn't want you to wake up in terror, finding yourself in bed with a stranger".

"Yeah it probably would have been a shock", agreed Vince. That was another interesting thought – that he could have woken up beside a large, naked Howard. He wondered what might have happened once the initial surprise had worn off.

"Anyway, I'll drive you home now", said Howard. "Will you be able to get into your boarding house okay?".

"Yeah, they will have unlocked the door by now", said Vince, putting his brogues back on.

When Vince walked towards the front door, Howard was a step behind him, his arm reaching around to open the door. Even though he didn't touch Vince, Vince was very aware of him, and the heat that Howard's body emanated. Vince could feel his heart doing that stupid fast beating thing again, thinking of how Howard had kept him warm last night.

"The van's just outside", Howard said in a soft voice. Soft like he didn't want to scare Vince away again.

*************************************************

Howard and Vince walked down the stairs together without speaking. When they went through the heavy door at the entrance, Vince glanced back to see the building. It was old and grey stone, probably a large gracious house many years ago, now down at heel.

Vince shivered in the chill early morning air, and Howard took off his own jacket and put it over Vince's shoulders.

"You don't have to do that, Howard", Vince said.

"I can't spend all night warming you, only to let you get cold again", said Howard.

Vince pulled his arms into the blue denim jacket. It was too big for him, more like a coat that needed to be rolled up over the wrists. He could feel Howard's heat still in it, and the jacket smelt of Howard, which was somehow comforting, and made him smile.

Howard's van was a battered old dark green and white Kombi, and Howard unlocked Vince's door first so he could climb in. There was no actual passenger seat – the front seat was all one, like a sofa or a park bench. The van coughed and complained upon being started up, but Howard just patted the dashboard with an affectionate smile, and said she went like a dream. What kind of dream was unclear – one where you bounced around a lot, Vince thought. He was glad that Howard was smiling though: it seemed driving his van was something that made him really cheerful, and that made Vince smile a lot too.

All the way home, Vince looked at Howard's hands on the steering wheel, thinking how huge they were, and how competently they did everything. Howard kept glancing at Vince, then looking back at the road and smiling some more. It was possible that it was driving his van with Vince sitting beside him that was really making him happy.

When they got to Vince's boarding house, Howard pulled up a short distance away in case residents were looking out their windows.

"Thanks, Howard", said Vince. "For the lift, and breakfast, and ... everything you did for me".

He threw his arms around Howard; Howard went rigid and tried to break free from the embrace.

"Oh come on Howard", Vince grinned. "You've already given me a cuddle in bed: you can handle a little hug".

Vince slid across the seat, closer to Howard until he was almost sitting in his lap. As if against his will, Howard pulled Vince to his chest and folded his arms around him. Vince was an affectionate person who hugged even casual acquaintances as if they were best friends, but he had never before hugged someone who felt so warm and solid. Howard was somehow the realest person he'd ever met, and his hug had more meaning behind it than any other.

Howard cupped Vince's face in his hand, holding his pointed little chin, a thumb brushing his face. Vince leant forward and tucked his face back into Howard's neck, while Howard stroked his back and ran his fingers through his hair. When Vince sat up and said he had to go, Howard dropped a chaste kiss on the top of his head, and sat back, looking abashed.

"Howard, do you have a pen and paper?", asked Vince.

"In the glove box", Howard replied.

Vince hastily scribbled down the phone number of the boarding house, and added his email address; he grinned as he pushed the paper into Howard's hand.

Vince started peeling off Howard's jacket, but Howard waved his hand to stop him, and said, "Keep it. You look great in it".

As Vince waved goodbye to Howard, he felt a warm glow go right through his body. Howard had said he looked great in the jacket. He was wrong, Vince thought – the jacket was too big and heavy for him, and it clashed with the jeans he was wearing. Still, he had received a compliment from Howard, and he treasured it.

Vince walked towards the boarding house clutching the jacket to him, as if trying to maintain the feeling of having Howard's arms around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard's method of warming Vince up is correct for someone suffering from hypothermia in the wilderness (like in my story "Call Me Tundra Boy"), but unnecessary for someone already in bed in a heated flat. Howard was being typically over-zealous, and I'm sure in his own mind, acted from the purest motives. Alcohol poisoning is not covered by the Boy Scouts First Aid badge, but Howard does a reasonable job, and doesn't make any obvious goofs. He would have been helped by Vince's well-known toughness when it comes to booze.
> 
> In "Of Men and Muses", I'd already written a backstory where Howard got asked to leave the Boy Scouts due to an indiscretion or two, and joined a very gung-ho rival wilderness group. In this universe, he stayed with the Boy Scouts. In real life, Julian was going to join the Boy Scouts, but there was something on telly the same night. He (probably jokingly) speculated how different he would have been if he'd gone to Scouts after all. This isn't meant to answer that question ... 
> 
> I'm not an expert on cars, but as far as I can figure out, Howard has a (modified?) 1967 T1 Kombi van. Anyone with knowledge of Volkswagens of this era, please feel free to correct me. The deep green colour is typical though, and I believe it's called Velvet Green.


	4. No One Here is Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard asks Vince on a date – but is it really a date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one here is alone, satellites in every home  
> Yes the universal's here, here for everyone
> 
> The Universal – Blur 
> 
> It was the beginning of some sort of a very early chemistry there. ~ Julian Barratt

The minute Vince pushed open the door of their room, Leroy bounced over to him looking indignant, fretful, and suspicious all at once.

"Where have you _been_ , Vince?", he demanded. "What happened to you last night?".

"Yeah thanks; good morning to you too, Leroy", grinned Vince.

"Who was that bloke?", Leroy wanted to know, brushing aside any good mornings. He felt they'd gone past the stage of good morning. "I've been worried sick about you Vince, a strange man taking you away like that while you're out cold".

Vince kissed Leroy on the forehead in appreciation.

"He wasn't really a stranger, Leroy: I already knew him".

"What? Where from?", Leroy asked.

"I met him in a club in Stoke Newington".

"You went clubbing in Stoke Newington by yourself? You wouldn't have been allowed in", Leroy said in disbelief.

"The club owner took pity on me", said Vince. "Then later he came into the bakery when I was at work, so I saw him again".

"So who is this bloke, anyway?", said Leroy.

"His name's Howard. He's a musician", said Vince.

"You're flipping unbelievable, Vince", said Leroy, shaking his head. "One day you suddenly say you want an older boyfriend: the next morning you waltz in after spending the night with a man!".

"It's not like that", said Vince. "He's not my boyfriend".

"And he's _way_ too old for you", went on Leroy as if Vince hadn't spoken. "When you said an older boyfriend, I thought you meant someone from the college a couple of years older, not old enough to be your dad".

"He's only twenty-seven", said Vince. "Same age as Damon and Alex".

"Blimming heck, he looks _loads_ older than that", said Leroy.

"It's probably because he's tall and has a moustache", suggested Vince.

"And what was he even doing at the student bar?", asked Leroy. "Did you make an arrangement to meet him there or something?".

"No really, I didn't", protested Vince. "I just went with you, Leroy. Howard happened to be parked outside, and saw me passed out drunk. He's got medical training, so he took me back to his place for some first aid".

"Is that what they call it these days?", said Leroy disbelievingly.

"Nothing happened", Vince insisted.

"So where did you sleep last night?", asked Leroy.

"In Howard's bed", said Vince, with a little smile.

"And you still reckon nothing happened?", said Leroy. "Pull the other one, if Howard hasn't already pulled it for you".

"Howard wasn't in bed with me – he slept on the floor in another room", explained Vince.

"Quite the gentleman, isn't he?", sneered Leroy.

"Hey, you're the one who pulled last night, Leroy", said Vince. "Who was that bird you got off with?".

"Oh ... you mean Clare", said Leroy, looking unconvincingly nonchalant. "Yeah, she's alright actually. She gave me her phone number and all – she shares a flat with another girl".

"Well give her a call then, you berk", Vince encouraged him.

"Yeah maybe", said Leroy. "Coming to breakfast, Vince?".

"No, Howard already made me breakfast", said Vince smugly. "He's a good cook".

Leroy rolled his eyes, and started heading off, when he suddenly stopped in the doorway.

"Hey, where did you get that jacket?", Leroy asked. "You didn't have it last night".

And Vince really didn't know how to stop his face from grinning like an idiot.

************************************************

Vince went for a shower while everyone else was at breakfast, feeling like he needed to wash off the events of last night. He let the water wash over him, thinking about Howard, and how warm he felt to hug. Howard didn't seem to want to touch him at first, but he'd ended up giving Vince a right old cuddle – Vince had even thought Howard was going to kiss him when he touched his face, but he'd just put his lips on the top of Vince's head, as if he was a child.

But then he'd said Vince looked great in his jacket. Vince wished he could have asked, Just how great do I look, Howard? Great in what way? Great as in, you're a cute kid, or great as in, you're so sexy I want to jump your bones right now?

While he soaped himself, Vince couldn't help thinking that he'd spent part of the night in bed with Howard, his naked body pressed against him. That was an exciting thought. He imagined what would have happened if he'd woken up beside a naked Howard. He would have been frightened at first, he might have struggled, but Howard would have held him in his strong arms until Vince realised he was safe. Vince imagined himself struggling against Howard's naked body, and let out a soft moan.

Howard would have said, _Don't be scared sweetheart, everything is alright_. Vince imagined Howard's face next to his, his massive hands covering Vince's body, the feel of his heartbeat, of his warm breath. Howard would have kissed Vince gently, he would have said, _I'm here now darling, let me take care of you_. Vince imagined Howard's lips against his, as he slid his hand along his cock in imitation of Howard taking care of it for him.

He used both hands, so it would feel more like Howard touching him, Howard did everything so firmly and competently that Vince felt sure he would excel at pulling him off too. Howard would rub his cock while kissing him, Howard would make him feel loved and cared for. Vince somehow knew it wasn't possible for Howard to do anything casually, without thought. Vince imagined Howard's hand on him, holding him, his fingers ...

As he shuddered to a stop, the warm water already washing his cum away, Vince thought to himself, So that's why I couldn't stop thinking about him. He was glad to know he wasn't going mental, anyway.

************************************************

As soon as Vince had towelled himself off and got changed, it was time for him to leave for work; he got going before Leroy was back from breakfast to badger him with more questions. He arrived five minutes late, and was tired and daydreamy, making more mistakes than usual, until Mrs Andrews asked if something was wrong.

"I didn't get much sleep last night", Vince replied.

"Out at a party, I suppose", said Mrs Andrews.

"Yeah, something like that".

"Oh well, you're only young once", she said tolerantly. Inwardly she was rather dismayed though – last year Vince hadn't let his social life interfere with work.

Mrs Andrews had warned Vince to stay away from Howard, thinking he was a pervert who liked teenage boys. Vince wondered what Mrs Andrews would do if she knew that he had spent last night in Howard's bed, and that for a while had been clasped to Howard's naked body. She would probably phone the police, or at least contact the boarding house and college to let them know.

"Did you have a good breakfast this morning, love?".

"Yes – I had fruit salad and yoghurt, and bacon and egg on toast, and a glass of milk, and a cup of tea", grinned Vince.

"Goodness me. Well you won't go fainting today then, will you?".

Vince wondered what Mrs Andrews would think if she knew he had wanked off in the shower this morning, imagining Howard holding Vince in bed, picturing Howard touching and kissing Vince. Maybe she would think it was actually Vince who was the pervert. A filthy little perv who liked older blokes.

At the end of his morning shift, Mrs Andrews said he could have some cheese sandwiches that hadn't sold. It was handy, because now he could take them and go straight to college to work on a project instead of back to the boarding house for lunch.

**********************************************

Vince let himself into the college computer lab with his electronic swipe card, and found a free terminal. He checked his email before starting work, although telling himself there was no way Howard would have written to him, not so soon, and he might not even have email ...

Shit, there was an email from Howard in his inbox, date stamped two hours earlier. Unbelievable, he'd only seen him that morning! Wasn't there a three day rule or something so you didn't look too eager? Howard had only waited about three hours. It was great Howard didn't believe in any such rule, it was bloody stupid anyway.

_From:spacebetweenthenotes@jazzmail.com_   
_Sent: Sat 30/09/95 10.37 am_   
_Subject: Invitation_

_Dear Vince,_

_I hope you have recovered from your ordeal last night, and that there were no problems getting in to the boarding house this morning. Make sure that you get plenty of rest today, and a good sleep tonight, and drink lots of water._

_I was wondering if you would care to come over tomorrow evening? I thought we might grab a bite to eat, and perhaps you could bring with you a Blur album, so that we could listen to it. If I am going to be on the side of Blur, I feel I should know at least one of their songs! Of course I would bring you home at a reasonable hour._

_I don't know if you will even get this email by then or be able to reply, so I will just park near the boarding house at 5 pm, where I did this morning. If you are interested, you can join me there. If not, that's quite alright, as you have your own life to lead, and I will completely understand._

_Regards,_

_Uncle Boris_

_PS If you are not permitted to use your college email for personal correspondence, I include both my home phone number and mobile phone number so that you can contact me if you wish._

_From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Sat 30/09/95 1.04 pm_  
 _Subject: RE: Invitation_

_yeh brilliant wld luv 2. will bring blur. cya luv vince xx_

************************************************  
            

Vince spent most of Sunday afternoon trying to decide what to wear, going through his wardrobe and abandoning rejects in a pile on his bed. He didn't want to look as if he was trying too hard, but then again, he wanted to look as if he'd made a bit of an effort.

And what exactly did grab a bite to eat mean? Did Howard mean they were going to a restaurant, or were they just getting takeaway? Or would Howard cook something and they'd take it with them somewhere? Or did it mean Howard was planning on covering Vince's naked body in whipped cream and slowly licking it all off?

Vince could just feel Howard's tongue going all over his body, every nook and cranny ... especially the crannies ... Well that had stopped him worrying about clothes for a few minutes, anyway. And they say you're meant to do that before a date, get it out of your system so you don't act all desperate and horny and frighten them off. (Although if Howard acted desperate and horny, it wouldn't frighten Vince off at all, it would be amazing ... Another few minutes wouldn't do any harm, really ...).

Now feeling much calmer, Vince decided on a pair of skin-tight black jeans, a neon pink tee-shirt that he had painted his own abstract design on in yellow and green swirls, and a pair of trainers. After a little hesitation, he put on Howard's jacket, even though it was really too big for him, because Howard said he looked great in it.

Vince remembered his friend Sophie saying she always wore this dress that her boyfriend liked on her, even though it was unflatteringly tight, and a colour that made her skin look greasy. She said it was worth looking horrible to please him, so Vince thought he should make a similar sacrifice.

He wasn't sure whether to wear make-up or not. Howard seemed like the sort of bloke that might not approve of make-up, and they weren't going anywhere special. Then again, girls at college complained that nearly all blokes say they don't like make-up, but it's only when you wear some that you get compliments or asked out. In the end, he just put on a little bit of mascara, and hardly anything in his hair. Not that he was expecting Howard to stroke his hair again or anything.

Leroy was spending the afternoon and evening with his grandmother in Dagenham, so luckily Vince didn't have to tell him anything. He left a note on Leroy's bed just in case he got home before Vince: _gone out, cya when i get back luv vince xx_.

*********************************************

It was ten past five when Vince left the boarding house and ran towards the van; Howard was leaning against it with his arms crossed, a funny little smile on his face as he watched Vince approach.

Vince wondered if Howard had agonised over what to wear, and decided he hadn't: he was wearing brown corduroy trousers, a brown patterned shirt, and a mustard cardigan. It was as if he'd grabbed the first things to hand, and they just happened to go together well. Vince thought it made Howard look as if he just didn't care what he looked like, yet still looked good – which made him impossibly cool. Vince didn't think he would ever reach Howard's level of coolness.

"Ten minutes late. What's your excuse, sir?", said Howard with a little twitch of his lip that Vince decided meant he was being humorous.

"I was getting ready when a kangaroo put me in her pouch and hopped across the Channel with me", grinned Vince. "She abandoned me in Calais, and I had to come back by Eurostar".

"Hey, don't ever joke about kangaroos", said Howard. "Those creatures are downright downunder dangerous, and I know, because I fought one. You're looking at Howard 'Monsoon' Moon, kangaroo boxer extraordinaire".

"You're having me on".

"Am I?", said Howard. "Then take a look at this".

He dramatically pulled up his shirt to reveal deep scars going down his chest and stomach. Vince gingerly touched the scars, feeling both horrified, and impressed at how tough Howard was. He'd thought Howard was just a jazz musician, but he was a real man of action.

"Did you win the fight?", asked Vince, reluctantly taking his hands off Howard's stomach so he could pull his shirt back down.

"No, I was horribly mauled", replied Howard. "The whole thing was basically a suicide mission, and if the RSPCA hadn't shut the fight down, I wouldn't be here today".

"Wow, you're pretty brave", said Vince.

"I was stupid", insisted Howard.

"Stupid brave", said Vince with an adoring expression. He went to jump in on the passenger side, before realising he'd hit a snag.

"Um Howard, I think these jeans are too tight for me to get in", he confessed.

"I'll give you a boost", said Howard.

Vince experienced the thrill of having Howard's hand cup his bum as he was lifted into the van; he could feel Howard's thumb lightly graze his arse crack.

"Thanks Howard", said Vince, deciding he would always wear skin-tight jeans from now on.

"Great tee-shirt", said Howard, as he pulled out into the traffic, not actually looking at Vince.

"I did the design on it myself", said Vince. "I can do one for you if you want – I mean, not pink, but a different colour".

"Er, thanks", said Howard, looking slightly doubtful. "That's very kind of you".

"I like your shirt too", offered Vince. "It's really ... jazzy".

Howard just gave a little smile, but he did steal a glance in Vince's direction this time.

"What would you like for dinner?", asked Howard. "I thought we might get a pizza, there's a fairly good place near my flat".

"Pizza would be great", said Vince, giving a little bounce of excitement that Howard seemed to enjoy watching.

When they pulled in at some busy High Street shops, Howard said he would order the pizza, and Vince might like to choose a film from the video rental place next door while they waited.

"But I don't know what kind of movies you like, Howard", Vince said.

"Danish arthouse cinema and classic films", said Howard promptly.

"Oh brilliant, I love classic movies too", said Vince, his face lighting up.

When Howard came into the video store after getting the pizza, he found Vince searching the aisles. He walked in the other direction, apparently giving Vince space to find what he wanted.

A few minutes later, Vince came running up to Howard, waving a video excitedly, and shouting, "I found it, Howard; I found my favourite movie!".

"Er, and _Herbie Goes Bananas_ is a classic film, is it?", asked Howard as he examined the battered old video.

"Yeah, it's a classic on so many levels", said Vince enthusiastically. "It's a classic comedy, a classic children's movie, a classic Disney movie, a classic car movie, and a classic adventure movie".

"Um, okay", said Howard. "I haven't seen it before, so that will be ... something different".

"Wow I can't you believe you haven't seen it", said Vince. "Maybe we should get all the movies in the series so you can watch them".

"We'll save that pleasure for another time", said Howard, walking towards the counter.

"Herbie is a Vee Dub, like your van", said Vince, "so you'll definitely relate to it. And he's a love bug – he brings love to his owners. Maybe all Vee Dubs do that".

"I haven't noticed the Kombi having that power", said Howard drily.

"It was probably waiting for the right person to come along", said Vince.

Howard didn't say anything, just paid for the video, telling Vince the pizza was already in the back of the van.

"What did you get?".

"Vegetarian", said Howard, looking down at Vince.

Vince couldn't believe how nice Howard was being to him. Surely Howard _had_ to like him, even though he hadn't said anything to him except that he looked great in a jacket that didn't fit him and had a great tee-shirt that Howard didn't even look at. He smiled to himself at the thought he was going to get into the van again, with Howard's help.

*************************************************

When they got to Howard's flat, Howard carried the pizza up and Vince took the video. Howard led the way into the living room, which Vince hadn't seen before. It had comfortable old furniture and was all in tones of autumn brown, sage green, and cloud grey. It reminded Vince of a forest or an animal den – it felt like a natural environment, somewhere safe and secluded. Howard seemed to use it as a combined TV room, office, and music room: it wasn't really tidy, but you could tell everything had its place and there was an overall order to how everything was arranged.

Vince produced his Blur album _The Great Escape_ from the pocket of his jacket, and Howard put it on the stereo while they ate their pizza. Howard said he did like Blur, and was able to expound so knowledgeably on the music that Vince was dazzled. Seeing Vince open-mouthed as he talked, he explained that music was a language anyone could learn, and said he'd be happy to teach it to Vince.

"You're a genius, Howard", said Vince, filled with hero-worship. Except he'd been so excited that his words slurred together, and came out, "You're genius, Howard".

"What's that mean?", asked Howard.

"Oh genius, it's what you say when something's really brilliant and amazing", said Vince airily. "I say it all the time".

Howard told Vince his dream was to create his own unique sound, and even discover a new genre of music.

"Maybe we'll do it together", said Vince, suddenly swept up in Howard's vision.

"Who knows?", smiled Howard. "You might be my musical collaborator one day".

"That'd be genius, Howard", said Vince with a grin. He told Howard he'd love to be a frontman for a band one day, like Damon Albarn, or his hero, Mick Jagger, who he worshipped.

Howard's favourite track on the album was _The Universal_ ; he pointed out to Vince how its lyrics were influenced by dystopian science-fiction films such as _A Clockwork Orange_ and _2001: A Space Odyssey_.

"It's all about loneliness, how in the end each of us is alone in the world: in the emptiness of the cosmos, and the solitude of the human soul".

"But I've never been lonely or alone", said Vince wonderingly. "I'm always surrounded by friends, and even if you don't know the people around you, they soon _become_ your friends if you only talk to them".

"I've always felt myself to be intrinsically alone", sighed Howard, a little theatrically. "Like someone cast away on a desert island, adrift on an ocean of time, of space. To be ever alone in life is both my destiny, and my burden".

"Well, you're not alone now", Vince pointed out. "I'm here".

"I know, and it's a very welcome change", said Howard, but his eyes still seemed rather sad.

************************************************

"So what do you love about this film?", Howard asked Vince after they'd been watching _Herbie Goes Bananas_ for a while.

"They travel to Mexico, which I've always wanted to go to", said Vince. "There's something so happy about Mexico: I can't imagine anyone being sad or lonely there".

Howard bit back a sarcastic reply, unwilling to dim the sunniness in Vince's voice.

"It's the ponchos – ponchos make you feel happy", Vince explained. "And the kid in the movie becomes a taxi driver, and when I was little I wanted to drive a taxi when I grew up".

"You still can, if you want to", said Howard. "But you're little now, really".

"Hey no, I'm a completely normal height", protested Vince. "It's just that you're such a big scruffy northerner that everyone looks like a shrimp to you".

"I've picked you up", replied Howard. "You weigh about as much as a Twiglet".

Vince tickled Howard in the side, and Howard flinched from him. Vince wondered if Howard's scars still hurt him, if it was painful for him to be touched.

A bit later, Vince moved closer to Howard on the sofa so that they were touching, and Howard moved away slightly, leaving a gap between them.

"Does it hurt?", asked Vince sympathetically.

"What?".

"Does it hurt when I touch you?".

Howard looked shocked, and began stammering something that Vince didn't really understand.

"I thought it might hurt your scars", Vince said, "because you don't seem to like it when I touch you".

"No it doesn't hurt ... not my scars ... it's just that it's ... and you're still ... it wouldn't be ... I couldn't", said Howard, not very comprehensibly. "And it not that ... I don't like it. Probably ... too much".

"You gave me a hug yesterday", Vince said, "and that seemed okay".

He curled up beside Howard, and put his head on his shoulder. Any idiot could tell that Vince wanted Howard to put his arm around him, but Howard didn't. Vince snuggled into Howard more firmly, as a heavier hint.

"Are you cold, little man?", asked Howard. "There's a blanket here".

He tenderly tucked the fluffy brown woollen blanket over Vince. And although he didn't put his arm around him, he gently pulled Vince's head into his lap, and began stroking his hair. Sometimes his fingers touched Vince's face lightly, tracing the contours of his cheeks to the jawline.

They watched the rest of the video like that, but Vince didn't think either of them paid very much attention to the movie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The age difference romance between Howard and Vince is not really meant to be super pervy – having Vince still at school is mostly for a little bit of extra drama. It amused me to match Howard up with a teenager, as on the surface he seems fundamentally unsuited to dating one, and also put him in yet another sexually dodgy situation, the sort he constantly found himself in. It fits in with the show, where Vince acted like a teenager, with Howard in an almost parental role. I always felt that Howard and Vince's relationship would have worked better if they did actually have an age gap between them, so I gave them one. 
> 
> Howard and Vince's appearance is not based on Julian and Noel when they were 27 and 17. Howard looks like Howard from Season 2 of the TV show, when Julian was in his late 30s – hence the many references to Howard looking older than his age. Vince's appearance is imaginary, and is somewhere between Season 1 Vince and child Vince from the show, who Noel said was a good likeness of him in his youth.


	5. Young and Lovely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince and Howard spend more time together, and on a night out, run into a familiar sex pest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friday's child is planning to go out for the first time  
> Says, "Don't worry ... I won't be out that late"  
> Can't be playing those passive games right now, they're out of date  
> You're awfully sweet ...  
> Growing up so fast
> 
> Young and Lovely – Blur 
> 
> It's a bit like falling in love, you know. ~ Noel Fielding

Vince made the hugest effort of his life and actually got to college early on Monday – he wanted to check his email before classes started. He knew that Howard wouldn't have written, had no reason to write, and he was being stupid, but still ...

_From:spacebetweenthenotes@jazzmail.com_  
_Sent: Sun 1/10/95 10:16 pm_  
_Subject: Forgotten CD_

_Dear Vince,_

_Thanks for coming over tonight; your company was very much appreciated. I hope you managed to enjoy yourself._

_When I got back from driving you home, I discovered that I had accidentally left your CD in the stereo. I apologise for my oversight, and wonder if it would be possible to drop it off to you tomorrow? Perhaps we could meet for lunch, if you are permitted to leave campus at lunch time?_

_I don't know if you will get this in time or be able to reply, so I will wait for you across the street from the college, just near the park, at 12 midday. If you're not able to join me, I will understand you are otherwise engaged, and leave the CD for you at the boarding house._

_Kind regards,_

_Uncle Boris_

_From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Mon 2/10/95 8.09 am_  
_Subject: RE: Forgotten CD_

_thnx 4 having me over it was genius. u keep the cd i got another 1. c u 4 lunch @ 12. luv vince xx_

*************************************************

Vince usually had lunch with Leroy, and was just wondering how to tell him he was having it with Howard instead, when Leroy sidled up to him at the beginning of the last class for that morning.

"About lunch - ".

"Um, sorry Vince, but I'm having lunch with Clare today in the college cafeteria", Leroy said. "I took your advice and gave her a call".

"Hey, that's brilliant", grinned Vince. "Have a great time".

"Oh well, it's only lunch", Leroy said, tugging at one of his curls in embarrassment.

As soon as class was over, Vince went straight to meet Howard, walking as fast as possible. Even so, he was a little late. Howard was leaning on the van again, with his hands in his pockets; he smiled at something, then looked away, shaking his head.

"Five minutes late. What excuse do you have this time?", he said.

"I was thinking about a gigantic bee, and then the bee became real and flew me to New York. It wouldn't take me back again, so I had to hop on a Concorde", Vince said in a serious voice.

"Hm, well that's a pretty good excuse, then", smiled Howard.

"You didn't ever get attacked by killer bees or anything, did you?", asked Vince.

"No – a rather vicious butterfly once gave me a terrible fright though", said Howard, with a laugh.

"So where are we going for lunch?", asked Vince, really wondering how they had the time to go anywhere.

"I brought lunch", said Howard. "I thought we could eat it in the park as the weather's fine".

"You made me a picnic?", grinned Vince.

"Not really a picnic", said Howard, as he spread the brown woollen blanket on the grass for them. "It's just cold roast chicken, buttered bread rolls, and a bit of salad".

"It looks like a picnic", said Vince, as they sat down and Howard got out paper napkins, salt and pepper, and knives and forks.

Howard had arranged the food in a plastic container each, and Vince picked up a drumstick and began eating.

"I brought your CD with me", said Howard. "I know you said to keep it, but ...".

"No, really Howard, it's yours", Vince assured him. "I already bought another copy".

"You're very generous", said Howard.

Vince had wanted more compliments from Howard, but that one made him feel suddenly uncomfortable. He wanted ones that meant Howard liked his appearance, and besides, he didn't deserve it.

"It's nothing", said Vince with a little frown. "It's the least I could do – you've already saved my life, put me up for the night, cooked me breakfast, given me lifts, bought me dinner and a movie, given me a jacket, and now you've brought me a picnic".

Howard changed the subject by asking Vince what classes he was taking, and which ones were his favourites.

"My best subjects are Painting and Textiles. I like Photography. I'm good at English, except my spelling is pretty awful", said Vince. "I'm hopeless at Maths though: I just had that this morning".

"Anyone who loves music should love Maths", said Howard. "The Greek mathematician Pythagoras once said there was a geometry in the humming of strings. Can you show me what you're having trouble with?".

Vince went through his notes from that morning's class so Howard could see the problems he'd been working on.

"If you can think of it this way, Vince", began Howard, as he started writing in Vince's notebook, clearly elucidating where Vince had been going wrong, and showing him how the problem could have been solved more neatly.

"That's genius, Howard", said Vince in delight. "You're a really good teacher".

"My mum's a Maths teacher in Leeds", said Howard. "Maybe it's in the genes, or she just set me a good example".

"That where you're from – Leeds?".

"Yes, the Moon family have been in Leeds for generations", replied Howard.

"So why did you go to our school?", asked Vince. "It's a fair distance from Yorkshire".

"My parents are both teachers, and I think they worried I might get teased or bullied if I went to the school they taught at", replied Howard. "Our school had a good reputation, and it wasn't really that expensive, considering. Why did ... Bryan send you to boarding school?".

"I grew up in the country, hours from London", Vince explained. "There weren't any schools I could go to nearby. I don't know why Bryan picked that one though".

"So you grew up among fields and hedges?", asked Howard. "Must have been nice".

"Not so much fields as forest", said Vince. "I grew up among animals: climbing trees, and swimming in the river".

"Sounds idyllic", said Howard, a little wistfully.

"Bryan used to say I was like Mowgli", laughed Vince.

"Was it ever lonely for you, growing up that way?".

"No, most of the animals were my friends. Animals are good company – they don't lie, or mess you around, or leave you wondering. You know where you are them".

"I used to work in a zoo", said Howard. "I could have done with someone like you as my assistant. You have that real understanding of animals that is so rare, and so valuable. I think you must be a remarkable person, Vince".

Vince looked down at the lettuce leaf he was nibbling, and didn't say anything. He didn't know what to do with these compliments Howard gave him. They were nothing like what he was hoping for, and yet seemed almost too extravagant.

"I've got something for you, Vince, if your hands are clean", Howard said, a little shyly.

Vince wiped his hands on a paper napkin and waited to see what Howard was getting out of the van.

"You asked for my autograph, and even though you didn't really want it, I thought you might like to have this", said Howard, passing it over.

It was a black and white photo of Howard's head and shoulders, and he'd signed his name across the right hand corner, like a publicity shot from a Hollywood studio of the 1940s.

"Who knows, it might be worth something one day, and you could make some money off it", said Howard.

Vince studied the photo, thinking how handsome Howard looked, and how even when posing for a photo his dark eyes looked a little sad. Sensitive, Vince thought. That was the word.

"I wouldn't sell it, even if someone offered me a billion euros for it", declared Vince. "I have to go now, Howard, or I'll be late for my next class. Thanks so much for the picnic, it was nice".

"Would you like to meet here again on Wednesday?", asked Howard, not looking at Vince, but packing away picnic things.

Vince didn't answer directly, but leaned over and brushed his lips against Howard's cheek.

"Wednesday then", said Howard.

And then, surprisingly, he held Vince's face and pressed his own mouth against his cheek. A kiss so light and quick that afterwards Vince wasn't sure it really happened.

The only clues that it did were that his heart kept pounding all the way back to school, and that he could feel the absence of Howard's hand on his jaw as if he had lost a limb.

***********************************************

That night, Leroy got into bed with Vince so he could talk to him about his lunch with Clare, because he wasn't sure how well it had gone. They had been with all her friends, and he'd felt left out, and could hardly join in the conversation because they were talking about classes and teachers and students he didn't know.

"Ask her if next time you can have lunch by yourselves, so you can talk properly", suggested Vince.

"Were you alright having lunch on your own?", asked Leroy.

"I was okay", replied Vince.

"You weren't really on your own though, were you?" went on Leroy. "When I was walking back from the other campus, I saw you in the park with that bloke".

"Yeah, Howard had to give me something, and he said why didn't we have lunch at the same time".

"Vince, I really think you should be careful", said Leroy. "He's a lot older than you, and he's obviously after something".

"All we did was talk", said Vince. "We're just friends. He helped me with my Maths homework".

"I saw you kiss him", said Leroy. "That seems like more than friends".

Vince responded by kissing Leroy on the cheek.

"It was just a friend kiss, like the friend kiss I gave you", he said.

Leroy gave Vince a quick friend kiss back, but didn't seem convinced.

************************************************

On Wednesday it was drizzling, and Howard told Vince to jump straight in the van, and he'd park further away from the college. Vince shook the drops of water out of his hair, and grinned. He regretted not wearing jeans so tight that he couldn't hop in unassisted.

When he parked near the river, Howard asked: "Did you have breakfast this morning?".

"Nah, I skipped it again", Vince said. "In too much of a rush to get ready".

"Well, I brought you some breakfast from a cafe near here", said Howard. "It does an all-day breakfast you can take away".

"Genius, what did you get me?", asked Vince, suddenly laughing at the thought of eating breakfast for lunch.

There was a hot mixed grill of sausages, bacon and tomatoes, that Howard and Vince shared with plastic knives and forks. Afterwards, Howard gave Vince a little box for himself, that turned out to be pancakes smothered in strawberry jam and whipped cream.

"I love pancakes", Vince said, licking whipped cream from his fork.

"I'll have to make you pancakes some time", said Howard, avoiding looking at Vince licking whipped cream.

"The breakfast was great, Howard", said Vince, as he sipped an orange juice Howard had brought. "Nowhere near as good as the one you make, though".

Vince showed Howard the tee-shirt he had designed for him – it was a plain black one that he'd drawn on in gold paint; the picture was an odd, unconventional face at a sideways angle.

"This is incredible, Vince", said Howard as he looked at it. "Nobody's ever given me a tee-shirt this good before. You're very talented".

"So how long have you been a jazz musician?", asked Vince, thinking he'd hardly asked Howard anything about himself.

"I was in a jazz band when I was still at school", said Howard. "Mostly worked in jazz clubs in the holidays. That would have been when I was around your age. I was always part of the jazz scene in East London, and after I lost my job at the zoo, I formed Up Down and Sideways with my friends Horace and Jimmy, because I needed the money".

"And that makes enough for you to live on?".

Howard gave a rueful laugh.

"I wish. No, I have to do all sorts of things to get by, like deejaying".

"Where do you do that?".

"Kind of working the periphery. Teacher training colleges, village fetes. I like to stick to classic jazz, and then when they're least expecting it, hit them with some Weather Report and blow their minds".

"What's Weather Report?".

"Oh, they're a jazz-funk band. That's my real musical passion, jazz-funk".

"I don't know anything about jazz, you must think I'm really thick", said Vince, giving voice to his first ever fear about Howard.

"I really don't", said Howard earnestly. "You mustn't ever think that, and never think it about yourself, either".

He leaned over and ran one finger through Vince's hair, letting the finger touch his cheek before kissing the place where the finger had been.

"Will you have dinner with me Friday?", Howard asked.

"You mean, come over for a pizza?", said Vince.

"No, I'd take you out somewhere. It wouldn't be anything too fancy, just a casual dinner".

Vince didn't know if Howard meant they would be eating somewhere casual, or that the dinner would be a casual arrangement. Howard's fingers were lightly touching his wrist, and he didn't know what that meant either.

Instead of saying anything, he turned his head a little and kissed Howard's cheek. He could feel Howard's stubble scrape against his lips, and smell the soap he used.

"Does that mean yes?", asked Howard. The pressure of his fingers became more noticeable.

Vince nodded, looking at the dashboard of the van. His heartbeat became faster when Howard smiled, a suddenly relieved smile as if he'd been tensing up the whole time in preparation for asking.

"I'll pick you up at seven, if that's okay".

The rain became heavier, and they watched it fall in the river, drops skittering on the surface of the water.

***************************************************

In bed that night, Vince thought about the compliments Howard had given him. Generous, talented, a remarkable person. They were nice things to say, but didn't tell Vince how Howard felt. It didn't seem as if you could easily go from, "You're very generous", to "Get your kit off, darling".

Vince thought about Howard's sensitive brown eyes, which seemed to always be taking little glances at him then suddenly flickering away to look at nothing. He didn't know what those glances meant either, but somehow they made his pulse beat faster.

He thought about the feeling of Howard's face against his lips, the way he smelt. He thought about how he had held Vince's wrist more tightly as he asked him to dinner, and how relieved his smile had been when Vince said yes.

Vince moved his hand faster and faster, trying to calm the beat of his pulse and the hot flutter in his stomach.

************************************************

"You're having _dinner_ with him?", Leroy said in disbelief. "You can't possibly say you're just friends now".

"He said it was just a casual dinner", said Vince, fussing over his hair in the mirror.

"Well, that proves it", said Leroy triumphantly. "Nobody ever says a dinner is casual unless it's not".

"So ... what, if they ask you to marry them, then they actually just want a quick shag?", asked Vince, using root booster.

"And if you're having dinner with a friend, why have you changed your clothes seventeen times?".

"It was only eight. And I like to look good – I'm not doing it to look good for Howard".

"Well, what for, then?".

Vince tried to figure out why exactly it was important to look good.

"I want to look good ... um, next to Howard".

Leroy gave an impatient snort at how thick Vince was being.

"So why are you acting really nervous?", he nagged.

"I'm just ... just excited", said Vince, carefully putting on eyeliner. "I haven't been out to dinner very many times".

"It's not that exciting", Leroy informed him. "You sit at a table, you ask for food, they bring you food, you eat it, then you pay for the food, and get out so the next people can have the table".

"How do I look?", asked Vince, stepping back from the mirror to show Leroy his outfit – tight black flares, loose purple blouse, dark green jacket, and his brogues.

"You look fine", said Leroy. "Probably too dressed up for the dump he'll be taking you to: musicians never have any money".

"A minute ago you said it wasn't going to be casual".

"I meant his intentions aren't casual", said Leroy darkly. "I'm not joking Vince – there's no way a bloke his age would be hanging around a seventeen year old unless he wanted a bit".

"It's really not like that", Vince said. "I don't even think about Howard that way. I don't think about sex when I'm with him".

It's sort of true. Vince doesn't exactly think about sex when he's with Howard. He thinks about how his skin feels too tight around him, how his body feels too warm. He thinks about Howard's deep, smooth voice that reminds him of cream and chocolate. About Howard's stubble, and the softness of his lips brushing Vince's face ...

***************************************************

It was already dark when Vince went to meet Howard; an October evening with a light, chilly breeze, and dew on the cold grass. Howard was leaning against the van with his hands in his pockets, wearing the tee-shirt Vince had given him, and a denim jacket a deeper, softer blue than the one he'd given Vince. He wasn't smiling this time, which made Vince wonder if Howard was already pissed off with him.

"Seven minutes late. Any excuses?", asked Howard with mock severity.

"I kept changing my outfit because I didn't know what to wear", said Vince honestly, biting his pink glossed lips. "I don't know if this is right for where you're taking me".

Howard stepped forward, and placed one hand on Vince's hip, awkwardly pulling him closer, before pressing his lips to his cheek.

"What you're wearing is fine", he said. "You look great, actually. I like all the rock band patches you've sewn on your jacket".

Great _again_ , thought Vince. He felt like yelling at Howard to get some more adjectives. He didn't though, because having Howard touch him and tell him he looked great put a little jolt in his stomach.

"You look good in the tee-shirt", Vince said. "It suits you".

"Fits perfectly", said Howard with a smile. "You got my size right without even asking".

Vince felt warm inside knowing Howard could tell he'd spent a lot of time studying his body, and Howard lifting him into the passenger side of the van, his palms all over Vince's bum, only increased the sensation.

"Where are you taking me?", Vince asked.

"Oh not far, just to Stoke Newington", said Howard as he started up the van. "There'll be a little bit of a walk though – parking is a nightmare at this time. You don't mind, do you?".

Vince said he didn't; brogues are good for walking. When they pulled into a large car park, Howard picked up a bottle he'd had on the floor at his feet, and came to lift Vince out of the van. He held the bottle in one hand, and Vince's hand in the other, as if keeping him safe. Vince walked down a crowded night-time street protected by Howard, and close enough to him that he could feel his body heat.

There were restaurants all along the street, and Vince kept wondering which one they were going to. At last Howard turned into the doorway of a curry house with 'Chandra' written above it, and ushered Vince in ahead of him. They were greeted by the elderly restaurant owner, who seemed to recognise Howard as a familiar customer.

" _Namaste_ , Howard", he said, holding his palms upright. " _Padhariye_ ".

" _Namaste_ , Mr Kapoor", said Howard, repeating the gesture. " _Dhanyavad_ ".

Mr Kapoor smilingly showed them to a table for two in a quiet corner, and left them to look through the menus.

"You speak Indian", said Vince in surprise.

"Hindi", corrected Howard. "Indian is the nationality; Hindi is one of the languages of the country. I only know a few words, and my accent is terrible".

"You look like you come here all the time", commented Vince, perusing a menu.

"Well, of course, I'm from Yorkshire", said Howard. "I've probably had more curries than you've had Sunday roasts".

"I really don't know what to ask for", said Vince, putting his menu down. "I don't know what everything is".

"It's okay, I'll just order a whole lot of things, and you can pick and choose from them", said Howard. "There's lots of vegetarian options".

When Mr Kapoor came back, Howard rattled off what seemed like an alarmingly long list of things to eat, and Mr Kapoor must have had a prodigious memory, because he didn't write any of it down. He looked at Vince, and said something to Howard that seemed as if he was teasing him, and Howard blushed as he replied, but looked pleased.

After Mr Kapoor left, Vince asked curiously, "What did he say about me?".

Howard blushed again, and answered, "He said I had a very pretty girlfriend".

"What did you say?".

"That you weren't my girlfriend".

Vince was left to puzzle out Howard's response. He hadn't denied that Vince was his boyfriend, just not his girlfriend. Nor had he denied that Vince was a girl. Perhaps he liked leaving it as a mystery, or just didn't think it was anyone else's business. What Vince was most interested in was that Howard hadn't denied that he was very pretty ...

When Mr. Kapoor brought their order to the table, he somehow managed to bring all of it on one vast silver tray. He placed the dishes in front of them, opened the bottle of wine, and left with what Vince assumed was a hope that they enjoy their meal. He gave Howard what might have been a tiny wink as he went to attend to other customers.

Howard helped Vince to samosas and chutney, and poured him a glass of wine. Vince wasn't sure if he really liked wine, but kept giving it occasional little sips to prove to Howard he wasn't a kid. There was a carafe of water for thirst.

"Tell me more about where you grew up", suggested Howard, just before filling his mouth with lamb curry and rice.

"There's not much to tell", said Vince. "Like I said, I grew up running wild, climbing trees, and swimming in the river".

"You must have been a PE teacher's dream when you got to school", said Howard.

"Yeah – I always got an A for PE. I was good at gymnastics, won medals every swimming carnival, and was on the football team. I got as far as playing for Swindon Town Youth. Never made captain though. You look like you would have played rugby".

"I gave it a shot, but I'm more one for long walks and hiking. I like water sports. Played tennis and cricket any time I could get a game. I was a fast runner, actually. And one year I came first in the long jump, which is my greatest sporting achievement".

"I like tennis and cricket too", said Vince. "I would have played with you if I'd had the chance".

"And you really didn't get lonely growing up without other children?", wondered Howard.

"No, not at all. I didn't know there was any other way to grow up".

"It's funny that you grew up by yourself in the middle of nowhere and were never lonely, and I grew up in a big city surrounded by people, and was lonely all the time", said Howard.

"Didn't you make lots of friends when you went away to school?".

"No. I always wanted a friend, a best friend that I could hang out with all the time, someone who could make me laugh. But I never met one".

"You know, it's funny, but I never had a best friend when I was at school either", said Vince, as if it had just struck him. "I had lots of friends and people to hang out with and have a laugh, but none of them was a best friend. Someone I could really talk to, someone I trusted, and could go to if I ever needed help. I never had that".

"Isn't Leroy your best friend now?", Howard asked.

"He's my _closest friend_ ", said Vince thoughtfully. "We have lots of classes together, and we share a room. And we can talk to each other easily, and we're very fond of each other – almost like having a brother, sometimes. But I'm not sure if he's a _best_ friend".

Howard put little servings of chickpea curry, dhal, spinach and paneer, and cucumber and yoghurt on a plate for Vince, along with rice, naan bread, and papadums.

"I suppose you miss your foster-father, Bryan, being in London".

"Well, it's no different from boarding school, really", said Vince. "We talk on the phone every week, and I go home at half term, and then there's holidays".

"Like the food?", Howard asked.

"It's amazing", Vince assured him. "Everything is brilliant".

When they finished their meal, Howard stood up, saying he'd go and pay.

"You bought me so many things and I only ate little bits and pieces from them all", said Vince. "I cost you too much money".

"Don't worry about it", Howard said. "That was my idea".

He leaned down and dropped a kiss on Vince's temple, running his fingers through his hair until Vince felt it like the crackle of electricity. Howard stared at Vince's mouth, and for a moment Vince thought he was going to kiss him, but he just gave a comforting pat to his head before walking off.

When they got out into the street again, it was darker, a little quieter, and much colder. Howard put his arm over Vince's shoulder as if to keep him warm. Vince felt the sleepiness of being full of food, and having a little bit of wine, and leaned into Howard's side as he walked, wanting the support.

They walked past an old man with a white beard sitting on a bench. He wore battered clothes, and his long wild white hair was strangely arranged with pigtails in it. Vince thought he might be homeless, and wondered if he should give him some money, until the man suddenly leered at him.

"Well hey there, sweetheart", he called at Vince. "Don't usually see nubile little princesses like yourself around these here parts".

"I'll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head", Howard growled. "Or I'll be taking you out for a meal with Mr and Mrs Pain. Order you up a violent quiche".

"You like 'em older, do you darling?", the man said, ignoring Howard. "That's just dandy – why don't you come over here and make an old mountain man very happy?". He rubbed his crotch, pointing it at Vince.

"Excuse me for one moment", said Howard, his voice edged with anger.

He walked over to the man and spoke to him in a low voice. Vince couldn't hear what he saying, but the man looked terrified, and ran off without another word.

"I apologise for that scumbag's behaviour, Vince", said Howard, breathing deeply to control his rage. "This can be a rough area at night, but you're safe with me".

One part of Vince inwardly swooned at being protected by Howard: another part felt rather resentful. It seemed a bit patternising of Howard, Vince thought.

"I can take care of myself", Vince told him. "I'm capable of getting rid of an old man who looks like Grizzly Adams".

"Yeah, I know – you'd come at him like a Cockney bitch and give him the combing of a lifetime", said Howard with a superior little smile.

"You think I'm just a kid or a girl or something", cried Vince. "Too weak to defend myself, but you didn't even give me a chance. We should have both dealt with him; we should be a team".

Howard looked stricken.

"I'm sorry Vince", he said, putting his arms around Vince. "I don't think you're a kid or a girl – really. It's just that he was the exactly the sort of person I was scared you were going to encounter when you ran out of the jazz club by yourself. I suppose I was trying to make up for putting you in danger that night".

"You didn't put me in any danger", Vince said, his head against Howard's broad chest. "I was fine. I got a bus home".

Howard gave Vince a quick hug, and then returned to walking to the car park, his arm now more firmly around Vince's shoulders.

"I rented _Herbie Goes to Monte Carlo_ as a weekly", he said casually to Vince. "Do you feel like coming back to my place to watch it?".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard says his family have been in Leeds for generations. The surname Moon is highly concentrated in the Leeds area, making this statement very likely.
> 
> Mr Kapoor's fairly common surname can be translated as "son of the one who is fair as the moon", and is a rough equivalent of the English surname Moon. By coincidence, both surnames are associated with the north of their respective countries. The restaurant's name of Chandra means "moon".
> 
> The conversation Howard has with Mr Kapoor is just them greeting each other, then Mr Kapoor tells Howard to please be seated, and Howard thanks him. Howard only speaks a little Hindi, so their conversations together are very basic. Mr Kapoor probably talks to Howard in very simple phrases as you would to a small child, so that Howard can understand him. I presume Mr Kapoor speaks English as well, but speaks Hindi with Howard as a compliment to him. 
> 
> In the UK, young people aged 16 and 17 can drink alcohol with a meal in public, as long as it is cider, beer, or wine, and the alcohol is bought by an adult who accompanies them.


	6. What's the Story, Morning Glory?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard has to give Vince the Talk – no not that Talk, the other one. And watching a Danish arthouse film together leads to Howard and Vince getting a bit ... closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's the story, morning glory?  
> Well, need a little time to wake up
> 
> Morning Glory – Oasis 
> 
> Dalí has been important to me since I saw a painting of his with a burning giraffe in the background. When I was aged twelve, I just went: "This is it for me". And I went to art school because of that. ~ Noel Fielding

"So what is it that you love about Dali?".

"Oh ... everything. He's so funny, but serious at the same time. All his work comes straight from his dreams, and that's how I want to paint as well".

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Vince and Howard were at a Salvador Dali exhibition at the Tate Modern – Vince having finally picked something from _Time Out_ that he wanted to do, and Howard more than willing to catch the train in with him. He didn't say so, but Vince knew that Howard worried about him travelling alone.

Vince listened to his brogues make a soft clipping sound on the floor, then stop as he paused to see Howard examining one of the paintings. Despite the chance to see many of his favourite artist's works, he was more interested in watching Howard, and his reactions.

"What do you think of that one?", Vince asked Howard.

"Oh, I don't know anything about art", Howard replied. "You're the expert, Vince – it's really your job to explain it all to me".

"Just your first impressions".

"Um ... well, it's called _Head Exploding_ , and it looks like an exploding head", said Howard. "And er ... it's rather like a Madonna, and the explosion is probably an atomic bomb or something".

"Hey, that's pretty good for someone who knows bog all about art", smiled Vince.

"Well, I read it off the card", Howard confessed.

"No more reading the cards", Vince scolded. "Dali wouldn't have wanted you doing that. He would have wanted you to go into your subconscious to understand them".

"When did you first discover Dali?", asked Howard.

"When I was twelve; I saw a picture he did in a book of a paintings with a burning giraffe in the background. I never knew you could _do_ paintings like that – not girls or flowers or bowls of fruit, but a giraffe on fire. That's when I decided I wanted to be an artist".

"So you did art at school?".

"Yeah, a vocational certificate in art, which is how I got into art college. I did a certificate in hairdressing as well", Vince added.

"What, on top of your normal schoolwork?".

"Well, I was pretty slack at the rest", Vince said. "I mean, I only got good results in English and Biology in my GCSEs".

"The GCSEs aren't that important", said Howard, waving that away. "But really Vince, why do you always act as if you're stupid and lazy at schoolwork, when you must actually be hardworking and ambitious?".

Vine shrugged. "I only do things I like and am naturally good at", he said. "I don't try otherwise, and I've got about a hundred school reports saying that".

"In other words, you don't waste time on things that aren't going to help you achieve your goals", argued Howard. "You peel away the extraneous details, and go straight for what's essential".

"Wow, I wish you'd written my school reports", grinned Vince.

"I'm serious Vince, look at what you've done", insisted Howard. "Decided on your future career at the age of twelve. Did two vocational certificates in addition to your GCSEs, using one of them to get into art school, where you're in the process of completing a diploma".

"I had to do a portfolio and have an interview as well", said Vince, as if trying to downplay his certificate.

"That's incredible, Vince – can't you see that you're an exceptional person?".

Vince stood as if trying to think it over.

"Not really", he smiled. "Just drawing pictures – it's not like I'm saving lives or anything. I could stop painting, and it would make naff all difference to the world".

"Well, I'm very impressed", said Howard. "And it would break my heart if you stopped painting – isn't that a difference to the world?".

"Thank you", said Vince softly, and went to hold Howard's hand.

Howard retreated from him, whispering, "Not here, Vince. Everyone can see us".

As they continued making their way through the exhibition room, Vince kept looking at the other people in the gallery. Many of them were in couples, and quite a few were holding hands. There were only two other male couples, but one pair was holding hands, while the other stood very close together, often touching. The couples who held hands didn't seem to be attracting attention or disapproval from anyone. Vince couldn't understand what was wrong with him holding Howard's hand, just to show gratitude for his kind words.

After a while he told Howard he was getting tired, and suggested they sit down in a quiet corner for a few minutes. Vince didn't know how to bring up the subject, so he got out his sketchbook and hastily scribbled on it: _y u not want 2 hold hands?_ He shoved it towards Howard with the pencil, as if they were secretly passing notes in a boring class.

_It would be inappropriate. We're in broad daylight, in a crowded public place._

_others here hold hands y not u + me?_

_The others are not the same ages as we are._

_but we held hands b4 on the way to dinner?_

_That was different. It was at night, in a rough area, and I wanted to keep you safe._

_saftey is only reason????_

_No, of course not. I wanted to. But we can't here._

_??????????_

_I'm sorry._

Vince drew a sad face, and passed it over. Howard took the pencil, and underlined _I'm sorry_. Vince drew tears coming from the eyes of the sad face. Howard took the pencil and wrote again.

_It's not possible to discuss it properly here. I have to be out of London this week – we're doing a few gigs in the Midlands. I will be back late on Thursday: would you have dinner with me at my flat on Friday evening so we can talk about it then? I'll cook._

_ok._

_Thank you. I will pick you up at 4.30 pm, if that's alright._

Vince circled the _ok_ in agreement, and put the sketchbook away in his bag. He wondered what Howard was going to say.

After they had gone out to dinner together, Vince had thought that signalled a change in his relationship with Howard. But another week had gone by. Another week where they emailed each other, met for lunch, and watched a video together, and it felt as if nothing had changed. Howard was kind, and affectionate. Had given Vince pecks on the cheek, kisses on the top of his head, pulled him into his lap to stroke his hair.

Vince kept thinking there would be more the next time they met, but there never was. He also thought that he would soon get used to Howard touching him, but he never did. Each time Vince seemed to quiver just being near Howard, and whenever Howard smiled, Vince's heart banged in his chest until he was sure that Howard would be able to hear it.

Before they left the gallery to catch the train home, Vince suggested they go to the gift shop and buy each other a postcard of a particular artwork.

"It should be a painting that reminds you of me", Vince said. "And I'll do the same, one that reminds me of you".

When they met outside the gallery after making their purchases, they exchanged postcards; Vince looking eager, and Howard awkward and embarrassed. Vince gave Howard a postcard of _The Three Musicians_ by Pablo Picasso.

"You see, Howard – it's you with your jazz band, with Horace and Jimmy. And it's how I first saw a picture of you, and the reason I went to see you at the jazz club".

Howard smiled, and handed Vince a postcard of Van Gogh's _Sunflowers_.

"That's how you make me feel, Vince. You're warm, and bright, and sunny, and you fill a room with such vibrant colour that it looks drab after you leave it".

And Vince thought he would never stop grinning like a mental case.

************************************************

"You're having dinner with him _again_?", said Leroy.

"Yeah – Howard's cooking this time".

"And he's never made a move on you?", asked Leroy curiously.

"No, never", said Vince, quickly getting into the tightest pair of skin-tight jeans he could find. "I told you it wasn't like that".

"So he cooks for you and there's no sex? Are you sure you're not married to him?".

Vince flicked a quick smack on Leroy's wrist.

"Leave it out. When I get married, I'm going to shag them around the clock", Vince bragged. "And they'll be too exhausted to do any cooking. We'll live on grapes and Jammie Dodgers".

"Well, you can't marry Howard. He's a bloke", said Leroy.

"'Course I'm not going to marry Howard", snapped Vince, hastily pulling an old jumper over his tee-shirt. "I already said, we're just friends".

"You're never going to marry anyone if you spend every spare minute with Howard", Leroy pointed out.

"I don't have time for this Leroy – Howard's picking me up at half four!", Vince said urgently as he laced up his trainers.

"It's four-thirty six", Leroy informed him, looking at his digital watch.

"Oh bollocks, I haven't even done my hair and make-up!", Vince wailed.

"Take your stuff with you and finish off at Howard's place", suggested Leroy.

"Yeah, good idea", said Vince, throwing all his hair and make up equipment into a shoulder bag and heading out the door. "Bye Leroy. Don't wait up".

"See you after half-term, if I don't see you before then", called Leroy.

But Vince had already left, and may not have even heard him.

************************************************

"You don't mind if we stop on the way to do some food shopping?", asked Howard, as he drove towards his flat. "I've been away and there's nothing in the fridge".

"Nah that's alright, Howard", Vince said.

"It's probably better this way – you can tell me what you want to eat before I buy it".

Howard loosened the collar on his shirt as they got stuck behind a massive lorry.

"Do you ever get stressed out, you know, while driving?", Vince asked him.

"Sometimes", Howard said. "It can get lonely on the road, just you and the endless miles rolling beneath your wheels. Do you have your licence, Vince?".

"Nah. Don't really need it in London. I walk to school and work, and can catch a bus or a train if I want".

"I can teach you to drive", Howard offered.

"What, sitting on your lap and steering while you work the pedals?", grinned Vince.

Howard smiled and shook his head.

"I was being serious".

"So was I".

"We could go to the country one day and have a go. Otherwise, how are you ever going to drive a taxi?".

"I'd probably be a rubbish driver", Vince said. "It's one of those extra details that are inessential to my goals".

Howard deftly pulled into a space at the High Street, saying they just had enough time to pick up a few things before the shops closed.

"Do you like fish?".

"Love fish", said Vince at once. "Grew up fishing in the river. My babysitter Jahooli taught me. Could do it one handed, lying down".

"Julie was quite the superwoman, wasn't she?", Howard said, going to the fishermongers, while Vince smiled to himself. "Maybe we could go fishing together some time".

"Yeah, fish basically throw themselves at me", said Vince casually. "Almost too easy".

"Well, fishing isn't all about catching fish", said Howard. "It's about patience, and finding that perfect Zen state".

"Oh. I didn't know that. I tend to just catch fish when I go fishing", said Vince. "You know. Get on with things".

Howard gave him a quick smile as he ordered salmon fillets, not really listening or picking up on this heavy hint.

Vince was careful not to stand too close to Howard as it was crowded and broad daylight. He wondered what people saw when they looked at he and Howard shopping together. Two friends? A teacher and student? An uncle and his nephew? Or even perhaps a father and son, if they thought Vince was younger than his age, and Howard quite a bit older than his.

*************************************************

They could hear the phone ringing in Howard's flat even before he unlocked the door.

"Shit. Sorry Vince, I have to get that", Howard said, racing into the kitchen to pick it up. Despite his panic, his voice sounded poised and businesslike when he spoke. "Hello, Howard Moon here".

Howard listened to the voice on the other end as he began putting the shopping away. Vince heard him say, "I'm sorry, I'm not available tonight; I have a previous engagement".

Vince put the shopping bag he'd carried upstairs on the kitchen bench, and left so he didn't eavesdrop on any more of Howard's phone call. He'd been planning to help Howard put things away, but instead he went to the bathroom to use the toilet and do his hair and make-up.

As he got out his stuff, he wondered who or what Howard had been turning down. It sounded like something to do with work rather than a friend asking him out – or someone more than a friend. It was strange thinking that Howard was rearranging his life for Vince, and even stranger that Howard actually had a life of his own that was separate from Vince.

He suddenly realised that he must have imagined Howard as spending all his time waiting to see Vince: emailing him, booking restaurants for him, buying him food, renting him videos. Vince also realised the reason for that was because it's what he did: spent all his time waiting to see Howard, as if he barely existed until they were together. He got a sick jealous feeling in his stomach knowing that there were other people in Howard's life.

Vince looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn't had much time after school to get ready, and had thrown on the first clothes he could find. Dissatisfied, he smoothed down his old woollen jumper and re-tucked his tee-shirt into his jeans. He began arranging his hair, wondering what Howard wanted to talk to him about.

From the few words he'd written at the art gallery, it seemed as if Howard was probably going to tell Vince that he wanted to back away from their relationship – if Howard even thought they had a relationship. Vince considered the possibility that Howard was going to say he didn't think they should see each other any more. Then he remembered Howard had asked him to go fishing some time, and offered to teach him to drive. He wasn't sure how long it took to teach someone to drive, but thought it might be weeks or even months: a fairly significant commitment.

Vince finished putting on mascara and eyeliner, and turned away from the mirror, suddenly tired of looking at his own reflection. It seemed stupid to be fussing over his appearance when he didn't even know how Howard felt about him. He banged out of the bathroom, his nerves wound tight.

Howard wasn't in the kitchen, and Vince found him in the living room, standing at his desk and going through his diary planner as if the phone call had meant he had to rearrange more of his life. He looked startled, and Vince wondered if he shouldn't be wandering around Howard's flat.

"Oh there you are Vince", he said. "Sorry about that. I'll just be a minute, and then I can be a good host".

Vince said that was okay, and tried to sneak a peek at Howard's diary without being caught. The guilty glance he gave just showed him the entry for today: _Vince for dinner. Pick up at 4.30 pm_. That would teach him to be nosy, he chided himself.

Howard gave him a smile that Vince thought seemed both amused and tender. Vince noticed he had taken his shoes off, and Howard's socks had a pattern of musical notes on them. Vince took his trainers off and dumped them in a corner; Howard's smile widened to see that Vince was wearing odd socks – one red and black striped to match his jumper, the other yellow and white polka dotted to match his tee-shirt.

"Nice socks", he smirked.

"Yours are cool too – Howard, is it okay where I left my shoes?".

"They're fine", Howard said, walking over to Vince and standing toe to toe, so they were only a few inches apart from each other. This close, Vince felt very aware of Howard's height.

"I'm sorry I tried to hold your hand", Vince said. He felt he should apologise for something, and this was all he could think of.

"Don't worry about it", Howard said softly.

He put his hands on Vince's slender hips, and Vince's heart beat faster; Howard's hands were so huge they completely covered his hips and part of his thighs. Vince didn't know what to do with his own hands, so he placed them on Howard's shoulders. Howard pulled him in a little closer, as if they were drawn together like autumn magnets, and Vince's hands seemed to settle around Howard's neck. He could feel the muscles beneath Howard's skin, the heat emanating from his body.

"Are we going to have that talk now?", Vince wanted to know.

"A bit later, little man", said Howard.

He took a tiny step closer to Vince, his arms around him, their faces almost touching. Howard tightened his grip a little, and Vince thought again what a good hugger Howard was. Vince leaned forward and nestled his head on Howard's shoulder, feeling Howard's heartbeat. Howard rubbed his back in a wide, comforting circle, before returning his hand to Vince's hip.

"Vince - ", Howard murmured, as if about to say something, before he broke contact and stepped away. He ran one finger through Vince's hair, and gave him a little smile. "I have to make dinner".

"Want some help?".

"You can come and keep me company", said Howard, leading Vince into the kitchen.

He put on some music that Vince thought was probably jazz, and rolled up his sleeves, showing the muscles in his forearms. Vince leaned on the kitchen bench and watched Howard peel the potatoes with his long fingers, sometimes using the tips of them to tap in time to the music, as if he were playing a keyboard. He had his Picasso postcard stuck up on the wall, just in front of him.

"Do you want a glass of wine, Vince?", Howard asked.

When Vince replied in the negative, Howard asked him to get the wine out of the fridge for Howard, and said there was mineral water if Vince would prefer that. The wine was already open, so Vince looked around for glasses, and poured one for Howard, and then some mineral water for himself. Howard put the potatoes in the oven sprinkled with rosemary, and sat down at the table with Vince.

The oven made the kitchen toasty warm, and the sharp, healthy smell of the rosemary went right through the flat. It's for remembrance, not that Vince could forget Howard anyway.

************************************************

Vince set the kitchen table, and the two of them sat down together when the meal was ready. Howard had pan-fried the salmon in butter and lemon juice, the roast potatoes were crispy and had feta cheese crumbled over them, and there was a simple salad of tomatoes, rocket, and watercress to go with it.

"This is genius", said Vince, eating a big mouthful of everything at once. "I've never had fish that tasted like this before".

"It's pretty standard", said Howard, taking a sip of wine. "Sometimes I think you must be a wild boy, raised by wolves. Normal things are such a surprise for you".

"Not raised by wolves – a leopard", Vince said, licking butter from his fingers.

"No wonder you love Dali. Your imagination is pure surrealism", said Howard.

"It may be surreal to you, but to me it's just real", said Vince.

"I suppose so, just as Dali's melted clocks were real to him", Howard said absently.

"Howard, when are we going to have that talk?", asked Vince.

Howard gave a little sigh, then said, "I suppose now is as good a time as any". He put down his knife and fork, and asked, "Do you know what the age of consent is?".

"Yeah 'course, sixteen", said Vince. "They told us in Health class at school. I was nearly sixteen at the time, so I didn't worry about it, and always made sure girls were the same age or older".

"That's not completely right", said Howard. "Didn't they tell you about the age of consent between two males?".

"They might have done", said Vince. "Maybe I didn't listen. I didn't know ... that I'd meet you".

"You've never felt attracted to any men before?", asked Howard.

"Only famous people, like Damon Albarn", said Vince. "And a couple of years ago, I had this weird sort of crush on Terry Nutkins from _The Really Wild Show_ , but I told everyone I fancied Michaela Strachan instead. Actually, I did fancy Michaela. I kept licking both their pictures in my _Really Wild Show Annual_ because I couldn't decide".

"Er, okay", said Howard. "Anyway the point is, if you wanted to be with Michaela it would have been fine once you turned sixteen, but if you wanted to be with Terry, you'd have to wait until you were eighteen".

"Eighteen? That's mental", said Vince indignantly. "Why is it two different ages for Michaela and Terry?".

"I suppose the thinking is that a sixteen-year-old boy is old enough to know he wants to have sex with a woman, but he's not old enough to know he wants to have sex with a man until he's eighteen".

"So if you were a twenty-seven year old woman, I could have sex with you right now?", asked Vince.

"Yes, if I agreed to it", said Howard.

"And if I were a seventeen-year old girl, you could have sex with me right now?".

"Yes, although with my luck I'm sure you'd have a gorilla of a father and six hulking older brothers to get through first".

"And what if we were both female?".

"Nobody even bothered to make a law about that. One of those rare times when the ladies have the advantage of us".

"The whole thing's completely unfair".

"You're right - the law's nonsensical. It's an outdated piece of legislation, and I'm sure it will be changed one day. But for now, that's what the law says".

"And what does this have to do with me holding your hand in the Tate Modern? It's not illegal to hold hands".

"No ... but people tend to think if you walk around holding hands in public, you're doing more than that in private".

"But you held my hand in public when we went to dinner".

"It was dark, and we were walking down a street – I didn't think people would look at us long enough to make a judgement on your age".

"They thought I was a girl, anyway", said Vince. "Is that why you looked happy when Mr Kapoor thought I was your girlfriend?".

"Partly. Don't forget, it was two elderly men who thought you were a girl: they're old-fashioned enough that when they see someone with longish hair and make-up wearing a blouse, they assume it's a girl. Other people won't think that, especially in broad daylight, and when they have plenty of time to look at you".

"Howard, I'm really confused. Why are we having this talk?".

Howard cleared his throat several times.

"Vince, we've been spending a lot of time together for a few weeks now. And ... well, I thought we needed to have this talk before ... well, I needed to make sure we were both clear on ... the state of things".

"Are you saying nothing is going to happen until I turn eighteen? Is that why you've never tried it on?".

"I'm saying you should wait until you're eighteen, and then ... decide what you want".

"What if I want something more right now?", asked Vince, suddenly angry that he had no right to choose for himself.

"Then perhaps we shouldn't see each other any more until you've had your eighteenth birthday", said Howard.

"No, you can't _do_ that!", said Vince, upset. "I'll go mental not being able to see you. I wouldn't be able to finish school; I wouldn't be able to think about anything else".

Howard sighed. "I must admit, I probably wouldn't cope very well either".

"And why did you keep asking me out if you knew it was illegal for us to be together properly?".

"I told myself we were just friends at first, and then ... then I didn't care, I just wanted to keep seeing you. I'm sorry, Vince – I've made a mess of things, out of stupidity and selfishness. This is all my fault, and I don't know what we should do".

"What would happen if we were together and people found out?", asked Vince, afraid of the answer.

"I could go to prison for a long time", said Howard bluntly. "I would be publicly disgraced, and there's a chance you'd be asked to leave your school or your boarding house".

"Howard, can I hold your hand now?", asked Vince in a small voice.

Howard slipped his fingers between Vince's, and they held hands under the table. Even though the situation seemed hopeless, Vince found that as long as he held hands with Howard, he couldn't help feeling that things would be alright. Somehow.

*************************************************

Vince sat on the big comfortable sofa, eating from a packet of Raspberry Bootlaces Howard had bought for him after he said they were one of his favourite sweets.

"What movie are we watching?", he asked.

"I didn't have a chance to get to the video rental place, so I'd thought we'd just watch one of mine. It's a classic film called _Midnight Cowboy_ ".

"Is it a western?", Vince asked.

"No ... it's about ... well, you'll see". Howard pressed play, and joined Vince on the sofa.

"Howard, can I ask you something?".

"Yes, those sweets _will_ rot your teeth".

"No, I was going to ask, are you my boyfriend?".

"You can't ever say that to anyone", Howard said in alarm.

"Well, are you my secret boyfriend, then?".

Howard gave a small groan, and said, "I suppose I am, if you want me to be".

"Then, will you put your arm around me, please?".

Howard seemed to be having an internal struggle, before saying, "Oh, sod it", and leaning back on the sofa, one arm circling Vince. Vince cuddled into Howard's side, sucking on the end of a Raspberry Bootlace as he waited for the movie to start.

************************************************

"That was a really good movie, but in a totally different way to _Herbie Goes Bananas_ ", Vince pronounced as the end credits rolled.

"Glad you liked it", said Howard. "It's one of my favourite films".

"I could never sell my sexual favours like that, though", Vince said.

"What if I offered you five euros right now?", said Howard with a sly grin.

"I'd tell you to put your money away, this one is on the house", smiled Vince.

"What if I offered you a packet of Raspberry Bootlaces?".

"You already gave me one of those for nothing", said Vince. "But seriously Howard, could you ever prostitute yourself like he did?".

"You'd be surprised what a man will do when he's desperate", said Howard. And as Vince had requested, his voice did sound serious.

"What are we going to watch now?", Vince asked lazily.

"Well I could put another video on", Howard said. "There's a wonderful Danish film directed by Bengt Klocker called _The Desolate Emptiness of Winter_ you might like. It's about a man lost on the tundra – he's been separated from the rest of his scientific exploration team, and has to battle the elements alone. In the end, he goes mad, hallucinates that he's been rescued, then freezes to death, before his body is eaten by a polar bear. Ever since watching it, I've wanted to go trekking in the Arctic".

"It doesn't have subtitles does it?", asked Vince. "Because I'm a slow reader, and I never get to finish what they're saying before it's moved on to something else".

"That's okay: there's only one actor, no dialogue, and almost no talking at all", Howard reassured him as he put the video on. "You can just lose yourself in the stunning cinematography. It goes for five and a half hours, but we'll just watch it for a little bit so you can see for yourself. The music is incredible too – almost hypnotic".

Vince took his jumper off, and Howard tucked the brown woollen blanket around them both. Vince put his head on Howard's lap, stretching like a cat as Howard gently stroked his hair. The screen in front of him was almost completely white, with just a tiny black dot off to one side, which was the lost explorer. He gave a yawn. The music rolled on hypnotically as the camera angle changed to show more of the white landscape, with the black dot now in the centre of the screen. Howard massaged Vince's scalp with the tips of his fingers, and it felt so relaxing that he closed his eyes.

*****************************************************

Vince was warm. Warmer than he usually felt in bed at night, and it smelt clean, like soap and some delicious spicy aroma he couldn't identify. He turned over, his eyelids still closed, and realised he could hear a heartbeat next to his ear. Gradually he became aware that he was lying on the sofa, his body intertwined with Howard's. His head was on Howard's chest, while one of Howard's hands was beneath his tee-shirt, covering most of his lower back.

He could feel little movements and hear a change in breathing that meant Howard was slowly waking up as well. Vince lay as still as possible; he didn't want this dreamy half-asleep feeling to end. He heard the white noise of the video come to a blank stop; a static of snow in which two explorers might lose themselves.

Vince felt Howard's hand move sleep-slow on the small of his back, and then gently caress down his thigh. Vince lay very still, wanting more touching, a soft drift of Howard's hand against his hip. It was so hard to keep his breathing calm, to breathe light and steady; he was sure that Howard would feel his pulse fluttering out of control.

"Vince?", Howard said, his voice sounding drugged by sleep.

Vince remained silent, pretending he was still asleep. Howard's hand continued gently stroking him, under his shirt, down his bum, and over his thighs. Howard briefly touched him between his legs, and Vince felt a fleeting panic he couldn't explain. Vince wondered if Howard could tell he had a stiffy, aching to be held, and rubbed by the tight denim of his jeans. He could feel something thick and heavy pushed into his thigh, but a moment later Howard got off the sofa, maneuvering himself over Vince so as not to disturb him.

Howard crouched down beside the sofa to stroke Vince's face, and kissed him on the cheek. Then he was gone. A couple of minutes later Vince heard the shower running, and pulled down his jeans and pants. His hand went to his cock, jerking off quickly, the smell of Howard lingering on the sofa and blanket making him come almost instantly. Vince wiped it off his stomach with a tissue from a suspiciously convenient box on a table next to the sofa. He didn't know what to do with the tissue, so he shoved it into the pocket of his jeans.

"Do you want a shower, Vince?", Howard asked, coming into the room while drying his hair on a towel.

"No thanks, I'll just use the loo and clean up a bit. Howard, what time is it?", Vince asked.

"It's about five-thirty", Howard said. "We fell asleep on the sofa, and were out for hours".

"I need to get back to the boarding house straight away", said Vince. "Bryan's coming to pick me up this morning for half-term".

"You mean you're leaving for two weeks and didn't think to mention that to me?", said Howard in hurt disbelief. "Thanks for that, Vince. And if you'd told me Bryan was getting you this morning, I would have taken you straight home after dinner last night. I can't believe how bloody inconsiderate you've been".

"I'm really sorry, Howard", said Vince. "I truly forgot about it until now. When I'm with you, nothing else in my life really exists".

Howard couldn't help but soften after this speech, and kissed Vince on the top of his head with his hand on his hip, as if in forgiveness.

************************************************

They didn't talk on the drive back. It had begun raining, and Vince watched the water run down the windows of the van, making the streets of East London look blurred and distorted. The wipers scraped against the glass, in a rhythm that set Vince's teeth on edge. When Howard parked the van in the usual place, he switched off the engine, and glanced over at Vince with what might have been shame.

"Vince, I'm really sorry if I did anything which made you feel uncomfortable", he began, looking ahead out of the windscreen.

"No Howard, you didn't", Vince reassured him. In fact, Howard had made him uncomfortably hard, but he knew that wasn't what he meant.

"It was a mistake, us falling asleep together like that", Howard went on. "Lines were crossed, boundaries were ... moved. I take full responsibility for it, but it shouldn't have happened, and it can't happen again. Not until ... you're older".

Rather than answer, Vince slid across the seat until he was almost in Howard's lap, his arms around his neck, his head on his shoulder. Howard held him close, and kissed him on the neck.

"Vince - ", he said in a low voice.

"Yes, Howard?", Vince breathed.

Howard gave him a kiss on the cheek, a nuzzle that meant Vince could feel his stubble scrape against his face. Then another kiss, just near the corner of his mouth. Howard's lips were soft and warm, his hands on Vince's back strong and protective.

"Have a good half-term", Howard finally said, releasing Vince from his grip.

"Okay, Howard. I'll see you when I get back", Vince replied.

Just as he was about to slide out of the van, Howard silently handed him a small white envelope. Vince grinned at him, gave a little wave, and shoved the envelope into his shoulder bag.

Vince walked towards the boarding house in the rain; it was just after six and the door would have been unlocked by now. He could feel Howard watching him, and when he glanced back, Howard was sitting alone in the van with an empty, sad expression.

***************************************************

Vince tiptoed into the room he shared with Leroy, only to find that Leroy had gone home for half-term the night before. His wardrobe was emptied and his bed stripped. He'd left a note on Vince's pillow: _Vince - Sorry I didn't catch you before you got back,_ _mate. Have a great time, and see you in 2 weeks. Cheers, Leroy_.

Vince reflected he hadn't even said goodbye to Leroy, or bothered to find out when he was leaving. Howard was right, he really was a bloody inconsiderate little shit. He'd been a bad friend to Leroy, and a bad (secret) boyfriend to Howard. Vince decided he would write to both of them during half-term and let them know he was thinking about them, at least.

He could still smell cum on himself, even after dropping the tissue into Howard's toilet and flushing it away. Vince wondered what Howard had thought of it – hugging and kissing his cum-stinking secret boyfriend. Maybe he'd liked it. Vince grabbed his towel and washing things, and went for a shower.

He leaned against the tiles with one hand, holding himself with the other. It took longer this time, he could relax and enjoy it. His mind was full of Howard's hands on his body, the feel of Howard's broad shoulders beneath his own hands. Howard's body intertwined with his on the sofa. Howard's sleepy voice softly saying his name, an unknown question without an answer.

Vince's mind emptied itself in the warm water, drifting away like the steamy air.

*****************************************************

"Vince, my child. It is so good to see you at last".

Bryan put his arms around Vince. It was strange hugging his foster-father – he felt so much like Howard. The same dimensions, and the hug even had that same mixture of warmth and restraint to it. Vince snuggled into Bryan as if trying to recapture the feeling of being hugged by Howard.

"Vince my child, you will rumple my tuxedo doing that", Bryan admonished him. "Remember my child, a gentleman never swears in front of anyone, and he never appears in public wearing wrinkled clothing".

Howard swore – he had said _shit_ and _bloody_ in front of Vince. His clothes were quite often wrinkled too, and he never minded if Vince rumpled him while they were hugging. Maybe Howard wasn't a gentleman.

"Are you all packed, Vince?".

"Nearly – I got up at five-thirty".

"And still not quite done? My little muddle-head: come, let me help you with the last bit. I am sure you are trying to fit too much into the suitcase – you always do".

Soon enough, Bryan and Vince had packed all the luggage into Bryan's safari-patterned Land Rover. It was a squeeze, but they couldn't put anything on the roof rack because it was still raining, although far more gently than earlier that morning. It suddenly occurred to Vince that Bryan and Howard even drove similar vehicles.

"Have you had breakfast this morning?", Bryan asked.

"Nah, I was too busy packing", said Vince.

"I have not breakfasted either, my child; the hotel's vegetarian options were not very enticing. Let us get something on the way – there is a wonderful organic cafe in Shoreditch where we can have granola with soy milk, followed by scrambled tofu with mushrooms and kale".

"Yeah, sounds brilliant", said Vince, thinking of how Howard had brought him grilled sausages and bacon, pancakes and whipped cream.

Vince thought of the way Howard's hand felt on his hip, his body close, his lips on Vince's skin. He wondered what Bryan would think about him seeing Howard, if he would disapprove of Howard's ungentlemanly swearing and rumpled clothing. What would Bryan say if he knew that Vince had woken that morning with an erection and Howard's hand under his clothes? Or that Vince had felt Howard's cock pressed into his thigh, and had wanked off on Howard's sofa?

Vince told himself that he and Howard hadn't done anything wrong, hadn't done _anything_ really. He surreptitiously took out the envelope Howard had handed him, and opened it. There was just one sheet of plain notepaper in it, ruled lines on white. It said:

_I'm sorry, Vince. I'll miss you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In 1995, the UK's age of consent laws were much as Howard describes: the age of consent was 16, except for sex between two males, in which case it was 18 – it had been lowered from 21 the previous year. There was no age of consent for sex between two females, and there had never been any laws legislating it. There was a push to change the law in 1996 because it was discriminatory, but the House of Lords kept defeating it, until in 2000 it was changed so the age of consent became 16 for everyone, whether male, female, gay, or heterosexual. The House of Lords allowed it through as long as someone in a position of trust, such as a teacher or guardian, was not allowed to have sex with a 16-17 year old (until 2000 it was legal for teachers to have sex with of-age students, which was definitely a thing). So Vince is underage by the laws of his time, but isn't by today's. 
> 
> The punishment for a man having sex with a 16-17 year old boy was a minimum of 6 months and up to 14 years imprisonment if convicted, but I don't know if Howard would receive the full sentence or even get a guilty verdict if he had sex with Vince. There does seem to have been more leniency for consensual sex with a boy over 16, so his sentence might have been toward the lower end, and he could never have been charged with historical offences if someone found out later. However, he would have a criminal record as a sex offender for life, so even a short prison sentence would be a disaster. I'm not a legal expert; I don't even watch legal dramas on TV. I have noticed that legal judgement is a bit of a crapshoot though, and Howard can't afford a good lawyer. To me, his fear about the possible consequences seems reasonable, although laws such as these are notoriously difficult to police and prove in court. 
> 
> The story is not intended to be either typical or realistic: it's a work of fiction set in an alternate universe, and should be treated as such. Nor is it advocating sexual contact with people below the age of consent, even in cases when the law is discriminatory. (And besides, the law has been changed now so that it's fair, thus there is no justification for breaking it).


	7. Hold Me Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We learn a little about Vince's childhood, and after half-term, Vince finds a way to reconnect with a suddenly absent Howard. A warning that this chapter does have a character death in it, in line with canon, and is super G-rated. There's a bit of mild sexual interaction, combined with underage drinking; nothing too overt, but let me know if you think it needs a higher rating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold me now, I need assistance  
> Why don't you take the path of least resistance?  
> Hold me now, do I need a license to hold you?
> 
> Hold me now, I need assistance  
> Follow down the path of least resistance  
> Hold me now, will it take a lifetime to hold you? 
> 
> Hold Me Now – Elastica 
> 
> It's sort of a weird forest story. I've always been into that, you know. ~ Noel Fielding

"So how goes it in the world of men, my child?", asked Bryan.

"What?", yelped Vince in shock. Did Bryan just ask if he was _gay_?

They had unpacked all of Vince's luggage, and were now enjoying, or at least drinking, a refreshing glass of celery juice in the main living area of Bryan's home.

"The world of men, my child; the outside world", Bryan explained. "And do not say _what_ like that – it is _excuse me_ , or _I am afraid I did not hear you correctly_ ".

"Oh, that world ... yeah, it's okay. And it doesn't just have men in it either; it's at least half women and girls".

"I know, I am old-fashioned", said Bryan with satisfaction. "But tell me, my child, about your own little place in the world".

"Well ... I go to college and to work", said Vince. "That's about it".

"I hope you do more than that, my child. Education is more than diplomas and homework and study. I want you to take advantage of the opportunities you have, living in London".

"I went to a Salvador Dali exhibition at the Tate Modern last weekend", offered Vince.

"That is excellent, my child. That is the kind of cultural opportunity I am talking about. Helpful for your schoolwork, too".

"And I went to dinner at a curry house, and I know how to say _hello_ and _goodbye_ in Hindi now. And I saw _Midnight Cowboy_ , and _Herbie Goes Bananas_ , and a Danish movie about a lost explorer".

"Wonderful my child, your horizons are being broadened", said Bryan. "Have you missed your home in the forest at all?".

"I miss you loads", smiled Vince. "I think about you and the little house made of bus tickets all the time".

"Now Vince my child, you are exaggerating", Bryan rebuked him. "The house is not actually _made_ from bus tickets, it simply has bus tickets stuck all over it for insulation and decoration. Do you have any bus tickets that you can add to it?".

Vince didn't say anything. The only bus tickets he had were from the trip to Stoke Newington to see Howard, and he didn't want to give them up. He had taken to collecting little bits of memorabilia to remind him of Howard, starting with the article he'd torn out of _Time Out_.

"Come now, child. You have been in London for weeks, and travelled to art galleries and restaurants, and you have not caught a bus?".

"I got the train in to the gallery", said Vince.

"Train, bus – they are both fine. Surely you have not stopped keeping bus tickets for me?", said Bryan, sounding rather wounded.

"I think ... I think I'd like to start my own collection of bus tickets, please, if you don't mind, Bryan", said Vince at last. "I think I'm old enough now".

Bryan suddenly looked very knowing, as if Vince had said a lot more than that.

"Of course, my dear child", he said gently. "I forget sometimes that you are growing up, and will need to put aside the bus tickets for your own house. Each bus ticket is a stage on our pilgrimage through life, it represents a memory. A bus ticket is a reminder that one can always find the way home, if the heart remains open, the mind remains clear, and one remembers to have the correct change ready".

******************************************************

Later that day, Vince was helping Bryan pick vegetables from the garden, digging up potatoes, while Bryan gathered artichokes and leeks.

"I wonder where Jahooli is?", asked Vince, getting up from his crouching position in the dirt. "He's usually here by now. Maybe he's asleep somewhere".

"Vince my dearest child", said Bryan tenderly. "I am afraid I have some bad news for you. Jahooli has left on his last great journey, from which none may ever return".

"Jahooli's _dead_?", said Vince, his face stricken. "When did he die?".

"Not long after you went back to college. He did not suffer; he lay down in a pool of autumn sunshine to warm himself, and never got up again. He had a good, long life - ".

"He was the same age as me!", Vince said angrily. "If I kicked the bucket tomorrow, would you say _I'd_ had a long life?".

"The ages of beasts are not as those of men", Bryan said. "Seventeen is very young for a man, but it is very old for a leopard. Jahooli was given a span of life on this earth, and he lived it to the full".

"And when were you planning to _tell_ me?", Vince demanded. "All these weeks, and you didn't say anything when we talked".

"News of a death is not to be given by letter or over the phone", said Bryan, as if quoting from some old book of etiquette. "It can only be given in person".

"Can I see where he is buried?", asked Vince. "Pay my respects?".

"Now Vince my child, you are being sentimental over an animal", said Bryan. "Animals die in this forest all the time – what do you think the place would look like if I buried every squirrel, every hedgehog, every sparrow in their own grave? The whole forest would become a giant cemetery: it would be quite morbid, not to mention a criminal waste of land".

"Jahooli wasn't just any animal!", cried Vince. "He was my babysitter when I was small – he practically brought me up. And you think he was the same as some old squirrel?".

"You are exaggerating _again_ , Vince", said Bryan. "How can a leopard be a babysitter, really? Jahooli was your friend, your companion; you spent many years together exploring the forest, but he could not bring you up. That is absurd".

"Oh yeah? You were away touring all the time, and Jahooli was the one who took care of me", shouted Vince. "You don't even know _what_ went on – you weren't around".

"I am sorry if I disappointed you as a foster-father", said Bryan with dignity. "Perhaps I did tour a lot when you were very young, but I had a hit album to promote. You were never left alone for more than a month at a time. And I took you with me whenever we played venues in England".

But Vince wasn't really listening: he was seething that Bryan had left Jahooli to take care of him as a toddler for weeks on end, and now he couldn't even admit that, or treat Jahooli with the respect he deserved. He made him sound like some sort of _pet_ , like an old Labrador.

Vince ran off into the forest, a sob bursting from his chest. He ran through the trees, along tracks that Jahooli had taught him. He ran for Jahooli, who could run no longer. He ran with the speed of a leopard, he ran on feet that were sure and silent. Jahooli had trained him well.

At last he threw himself on a pile of autumn leaves, too tired physically and emotionally to continue. Everything in the forest was a reminder of Jahooli – the trees that Jahooli had taught him to climb, the river in which Jahooli had taught him to swim and fish, the bushes where Jahooli had taught him to hide from danger.

It was called The Forest of Death, but to Vince it had been a forest of life – a Garden of Eden for the innocence of a child, a Hundred Acre Wood where a little boy and his leopard would always be playing. Now death had claimed his friend, and the forest could never be the same.

As Vince lay on the ground, his head pillowed against tree roots, he found himself thinking of Howard, and wondering if Howard was also thinking of him. He imagined Howard lying beneath him instead of the earth and leaves and roots, his head on his chest, Howard's arms around him, his hands on Vince's back.

He ached for Howard, pictured what he might have done in the shower that morning. He wondered what Howard's note meant – _Sorry if I went too far; I'll miss you while you're away_ , or, _Sorry I got involved in your life; I'll miss you forever_?

He believed he couldn't even mourn properly, because his head was full of Howard; his cock hard thinking about him. Vince was too young to know how closely life and death are intertwined, and that becoming aroused when confronted with mortality is very common – only a sign of the strong life force in his young body.

He just thought he was going mental. Again.

****************************************************

A few nights later, Vince was lying on his bed, pretending to read, but actually brooding. He had written to both Leroy and Howard that day, and posted the letters at the nearest town when he and Bryan had driven there to buy supplies.

Vince and Bryan had treated each other with formal politeness ever since Vince had shouted and run away into the forest. When Vince came home after sundown with eyes red from weeping, Bryan had served up the potato, leek, and artichoke casserole for dinner, and then shown Vince that he'd made a wild plum and hazelnut tart as a peace offering. Vince ate everything on his plate to please Bryan, even though his throat felt tight and sore, then offered to wash the dishes while Bryan did the hoovering.

"May I come in, please?", Bryan said softly.

"Yeah, okay", Vince said, sitting up on the bed and closing his _Really Wild Show Annual_.

Bryan came in and sat on the end of the bed. He smoothed down his white tuxedo jacket with one hand, where sitting had wrinkled it.

"Vince my child, is there anything you would like to talk to me about?".

"I'm sorry I shouted at you Bryan, and said you didn't take care of me", said Vince, fingering a fold in the bedspread which Bryan had bought from Ikea.

"Oh my dear child, please do not think upon that", said Bryan, holding his hand out for Vince to clasp. "You had a terrible shock, and were grieving sorely for your lost companion. I did not mean that".

"Well, what then?".

"I just wanted to know if there is anything on your mind. Anything troubling you".

"I'm alright", said Vince.

"Because I have received your half-term school report, child, and I have noticed that your marks are lower than last year – except in Maths, where I am pleased to say you have improved slightly".

"Oh well, the course is harder now, and I'm still getting settled in", said Vince.

"And your report says that you seem distracted this term, and do not have your mind on your work. One project was handed in late, a little slapdash, and you are behind on your reading assignments. The report asks if there anything wrong at home to explain this, if there is some trouble of which they need to be informed".

"It's just the usual things. You know, stress over college. Fitting work into my schedule. Um, Leroy has a girlfriend now, and sometimes I feel a bit left out ...".

Vince trailed off, unable to think of any more lame excuses.

"My dearest, sweet child", said Bryan. "I already know what it is – you have fallen in love".

"How did you know?", gasped Vince.

"A foster-father always knows", said Bryan with a smile. "And your face is not one for concealment".

"Don't you want to know who it is, if they are suitable for me, if you approve of them?", asked Vince.

Bryan shrugged.

"What would be the point? For an old Swahili proverb states: _Once the heart speaks, it is louder than a thousand voices_. It would not matter what I said – if I said they were wonderful, you would love them as before. If I forbade you to ever see them again, your love would grow stronger".

Vince hung his head, knowing Bryan was right.

"What else do you know about it?", he asked humbly.

"I know that you love truly – you are glowing with love, it shines through you like a great light. Some people don't meet their true love until they have grown old and wise, while others meet theirs at a young age. I always thought you were one who would find yours very early in life".

"But Bryan, I don't know if ... if _they_ love _me_ ", said Vince, almost in a whisper.

"Oh, now that one is easy", laughed Bryan. "Yours is the love that is always returned: you are the kind of person that others cannot help but love. Even when you were a toddler, lost and alone, I loved you as soon as I saw you, and wanted to keep you beside me in the forest".

"But ... what if they loved me, but for some reason they decided it would be more sensible to stay away from me?".

"An old Swahili proverb tells us: _The strength of the heart will always overcome the weakness of the head_. Do you think it was sensible of me, a bachelor living alone in a remote forest, to keep a small child? My head knew full well it was a folly, but my heart was more powerful".

"What are you going to tell the college?", asked Vince.

"I think it would be best to say there has been a recent death in the family, and that you need time to heal", said Bryan. "But you must try harder at school, Vince, and not let love destroy your life. Could you not use the half-term break to catch up on your reading, and work on some projects?".

"Thanks Bryan", smiled Vince gratefully. "I promise I'll draw up a study timetable and get to work".

"You are a dear child", Bryan said affectionately. "Now lie down and sleep, my little one. Remember how I used to sing you to sleep when you were small?".

Soon Vince was listening to Bryan sing _Avalon_ , his eyelids closing drowsily, the tune pulling him into slumber, just as it had more than a dozen years ago. And Bryan looked down at Vince, wondering who he had fallen in love with, and feeling sure they were unworthy of him. He couldn't think of a punishment great enough for the person who ever hurt Vince.

*************************************************

Vince returned to London on a night when fires blazed all over the city, and the president of France was burned to ash while crowds cheered. He had the satisfaction of knowing he had caught up on all his schoolwork during the break, but was bothered that he had never received a reply to his letter from Howard. Leroy had written back straight away, saying he was sorry to hear of Jahooli's passing, his parents were driving him mental, he was going to a Halloween party at Clare's family's house and staying there overnight, and he would see Vince very soon.

On Monday, Vince got to school early to check his email, but there was nothing from Howard. Vince quickly dashed off a message to him.

 _From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Mon 6/11/95 7.49 am_  
_Subject: Hi_

_hiya, just got back from 1/2 term it was ok got lots of h/work done my maths is better thnx. miss u hope 2 cya soon. luv vince xx_

This was the longest and most heartfelt email Vince had ever written Howard, but there was no answer to it. On Wednesday he phoned Howard's flat, but it went through to an answering machine. He left a message, but Howard didn't contact him. On Thursday, he tried again, and this time the machine was switched off and the phone not picked up. He was so worried that on Friday he worked for five hours straight on his Textiles project, completing the whole thing in one night, when he had been given a month to finish it.

Saturday morning he was early to work at the bakery, wearing a poppy, and Mrs Andrews was quietly overjoyed to see him. She had missed Vince, her granddaughter Debbie having filled in while Vince was away. Fair and stolid, Debbie was punctual, courteous, level-headed, and never got the change mixed up. But she didn't have Vince's smile and charm, and she didn't brighten Mrs Andrews' morning and persuade customers to buy extra the way Vince did. On Saturday afternoon, Vince did his English homework in the college library, and finished that too.

By Saturday night, Vince was completely fed up. He'd been working non-stop so as not to think about the fact he hadn't heard from Howard, and had swung between despair and fury at being ignored. He tried to tell himself there was probably some perfectly rational explanation, like Howard being out of London with the band again, but it didn't feel nearly as convincing as more pessimistic theories.

When Leroy said a bunch of them were going to hang out together at the boarding house in someone's room, Vince listlessly agreed because he couldn't think of anything better to do. The room was that of two older college students called Patrick and Martin, and about eight more boarding house residents sat on their beds and chairs while they listened to an album by Ned's Atomic Dustbin, and talked.

Martin got out a bottle of whiskey he'd been hiding in the wardrobe since the end of half-term, and they drank from chipped mugs, old glasses, or just out of the bottle, giggling and putting their fingers to their lips to shush each other, because alcohol wasn't permitted at the boarding house. Vince hadn't ever tried whiskey before, and he didn't like it – it tasted like medicine, and burned his throat. He was so fed up he downed a quarter of a mug anyway.

Leroy sat with his arm around Clare, and although Vince wasn't jealous of their relationship, it did seem unfair that Leroy was able to go out with someone older and it was okay, because Clare was a girl. Knowing he'd probably been chucked by Howard because of his age, and seeing Clare put her head on Leroy's shoulder, her long red hair hanging down, he suddenly asked for the bottle and took a huge swig from it. Everyone laughed and clapped as he coughed afterwards.

After his third drink of whiskey, which seemed to taste and burn a bit less than the others, one of the girls came and sat next to him, squeezing herself onto the end of the bed. He couldn't remember her name, it was something posh-sounding like Celia, but not that; she had a cheeky grin and streaks of blue dye in her dark hair, which was cut short and blunt. Not-Celia didn't say anything to him, but she kept looking at him every time she spoke to someone else, and rested her hand on his thigh, as if that was the only place she could reasonably put it.

Vince muttered something about needing to go to the bogs, and stood up, just as Not-Celia licked his neck in a bored feline way, as if this was more of her playful cheekiness. Vince slid out of the door, unnoticed by anyone except Not-Celia.

After going to the toilet and washing his neck, Vince went to his room and dug out a scrap of paper he'd been keeping, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. He walked out the front door of the boarding house, and down the street to the public phone box on the corner.

******************************************************

Vince stood in the glass case, searching for coins in his jeans, suddenly realising he had no idea what the time was, except that it wasn't midnight yet. He knocked the receiver of the phone off its cradle, grabbing it as it went to the end of its long silver cord. A voice in his head told him he was mental to do this, but he was wound up tight inside, even as the whiskey had made everything outside seem loose and off-kilter.

He squinted to read the number under the dim light in the phone box, put in a coin, waited for it to fall into place, then carefully dialled each digit with a curled fingertip through its hole. There were only a few rings, and then he heard Howard answer his mobile.

"Hello? Howard Moon's phone". There was jazz music and voices in the background.

"Hi, Howard", said Vince, his teeth digging into his lip, his hand holding the phone cord tight as if it would support him somehow.

"Vince". The voice was flat. "Why are you calling me?".

"Wanted to tell you somethin'", Vince mumbled, his voice sounding huskier and more drunk than he thought it should. "I liked it. I liked that we fell asleep together. I liked waking up with you. I liked ... liked everything that happened".

"Vince, have you been drinking?", Howard said sharply. The music had grown fainter.

"Not very mush", said Vince. "I miss you, Howard. I missed you, so I drank a little bit, but it didn't help me stop missing you, and then a girl licked my neck".

"Where are you calling from?", demanded Howard. There were outdoor noises in the background.

"Phone box ... on the corner from the boarding house".

"You've gone outside, onto the street? Vince, what are you wearing?".

Vince giggled.

"No, you tell me what _you're_ wearing first", he said flirtatiously.

"We're not having phone sex, you little titbox – I want to know if you're dressed appropriately for the weather conditions!".

"I'm wearin' very, _very_ tight jeans", Vince purred.

"Vince, please listen to me. Stay where you are. Don't move. Stay in the phone box. Pretend to keep talking if you have to. If anyone approaches you, and seems dangerous, call the free emergency number. Do you understand?".

Vince nodded, before realising Howard couldn't see that.

"Yes, Howard. Howard, are you comin' to get me?".

"I'm on my way now, Vince. I'm not far from you, okay? Give me five minutes".

Vince said goodbye, and promptly left the phone box. He was tired of standing up so he lay down on the bench at the bus stop, staring into the dark sky. The November night was chilly and his skin prickled, but the whiskey had made him just numb enough that he didn't feel the cold too badly.

When the van pulled up, Howard slammed the door as he got out. He stood over Vince, seeming very far above him

"You didn't stay in the phone box", he said. "Are you okay, little man?".

"Dunno. Think I need some first aid", grinned Vince. "Take your clothes off".

Howard lifted Vince off the bench, not very gently, and into his arms. Vince could feel Howard's hands on his thighs and bum as he was lifted into the van, Howard leaning over him to do up the seatbelt, his hand on Vince's hip as it clicked into place.

Vince watched Howard through the windshield as he walked to the other side of the van, running his hands through his hair as if in worry or anxiety before getting in.

As Howard started the van, he looked over at Vince and asked:

"How much have you had to drink?".

"Three drinks of whiskey", said Vince, "but they were all diff'rent sizes".

"That sounds like plenty", said Howard, a little grimly. He was driving carefully, but trying to get home as quickly as possible.

"Where were you when I called?", asked Vince.

"At the jazz club in Stoke Newington", Howard replied. "The same one you went to".

"Were you playing there?".

"No, I was watching another band. I was with a few friends".

"Sorry if I ruined your night", Vince said.

"You haven't ruined it", Howard said. "I wasn't going to stay much longer anyway. You probably did me a favour".

"Any time", grinned Vince.

When they got to Howard's flat, Howard came around and unbuckled Vince, then lifted him out of the van.

"Do you think you can walk?", Howard asked.

"Yeah I can walk", said Vince. "Walked to the phone box".

He immediately stumbled, and Howard put an arm around him to support him. Vince leaned into Howard's shoulder as they walked up the stairs, holding onto Howard's leather belt, his fingers hooked into one of the loops on his trousers.

Vince didn't know what he expected when Howard opened the front door, but it wasn't that Howard would swing him into his arms, and carry him straight to the bedroom. With one hand he switched the lamp on, then the heating, and tossed Vince unceremoniously onto the bed, so that he bounced on the mattress.

"What are you doing?", gasped Vince.

"I'm putting you to bed; it's late", replied Howard, pulling off Vince's trainers.

"Where are you sleeping?", asked Vince, sitting up a little to look at Howard.

"In here", Howard said briefly. "You said you liked sleeping with me, remember? Or have you changed your mind?". He took off his jacket.

"No, that's genius, Howard", Vince assured him.

Vince grinned as Howard's hands went to the button on his jeans, undoing it, then heard the zipper coming down. Vince felt Howard's hands lifting his hips and bum out of the jeans, pulling them down past Vince's little blue pants. Then he stopped.

"You're going to have to help me", Howard said. "These jeans must be painted on".

"I've got paint _on_ them".

Vince wriggled himself out of the jeans, lifting his legs up so Howard could peel them off. The jeans fell to the floor, and Howard sat on the bed exhaling a long breath, as if removing them had taken it out of him.

"You didn't answer my letter", Vince muttered as if to himself, his face turned away. "You didn't answer my email. You didn't return my phone call, then you didn't answer the phone".

"It seemed like the right thing to do", said Howard. "We agreed that we'd wait until you were older before anything happened, and then that same night ... well, I messed that up. I thought it best to stay away from you".

"I _never_ agreed to wait", Vince said. "And I don't want you staying away from me. I've been going mental all week".

Howard sighed, and ran his hands worriedly through his hair again.

"I think ... I think it's just that I want you, and you don't want me", Vince said in a low voice.

"You think I don't _want_ you?", said Howard in disbelief. "Look at me, Vince, and then say that".

Vince turned his face and looked. There was a massive bulge at the front of Howard's trousers as supporting evidence in his case that he wanted Vince. Vince stared, then looked up at Howard through his lashes, an _oh_ escaping from his lips in a short burst.

"Vince, I've got a beautiful, drunk, half-naked, underage boy in my bed, and I'm trying very hard to control myself", said Howard. "Nothing can happen – you've been drinking, you're not capable of consenting to anything".

Some part of Vince's brain tucked away the knowledge that Howard thought he was beautiful.

"I can't consent anyway", he pointed out with the unexpectedly meticulous logic of the drunken mind. "I'm under the age of consent".

"That ... makes it even more important", Howard said. "We have to be sensible about this".

Vince suddenly pulled Howard down on the bed beside him, winding his arms around his neck. After so long apart from Howard he just wanted to be close to him, wanted to feel his body against him.

"The heart filled with love is stronger than ... the head filled with sense", he said, a little uncertainly. "Old Swahili proverb I once heard".

"Oh, is that right?", asked Howard drily.

But he put his arms around Vince's waist, and Vince could feel Howard's cock pushed into him. He wondered if Howard could tell that he was hard as well, and itching to rub himself against Howard. He was pretty sure Howard could.

Howard ran his hands over Vince's bare thighs, making his body squirm into Howard's, his face pressed to Howard's neck. Howard's hands were huge and warm, his thumbs stroking the final curve of Vince's bum, and then under the edge of his black Rolling Stones tee-shirt.

Vince made a begging noise in the back of his throat as he pushed himself harder into Howard, feeling his cock twitching against his own. He began undoing the buttons on Howard's shirt, his fingers struggling with them – buttons feel all wrong when you're on the outside of the shirt, and drunk.

"No, come on Vince, that's enough", Howard said, holding Vince's hands to stop him, but kissing him on the neck and shoulders at the same time.

"Let me", Vince muttered indistinctly, trying to touch Howard's chest inside his shirt.

"You're so little, Vince, you're all bones", Howard said with a groan. "I'm scared I'm going to hurt you – I'm scared _this_ is hurting you. I shouldn't even be _doing_ this".

"Tougher'n you think", Vince mumbled.

Howard kissed his cheek gently, as if this tiny feather touch was all he thought Vince could bear.

"Please, Howard", Vince said.

He didn't even know what he asking for, what he wanted from Howard. He just wanted ... _something_. He put one hand inside his pants and pulled on his own cock, to show Howard how hard he was, how much he needed him. The tip of his cock had already left a wet mark on his pants.

"You're going to have to sort that out yourself", Howard said. But when Vince gave a whine of disappointment, he added, "I'll hold you, okay? I'll be right here".

Howard settled his arms around Vince, holding him close as Vince started stroking his cock.

"D'you like watching me?", Vince wanted to know.

"Yes, you little exhibitionist", Howard said. He tried to be stern, but only sounded fond.

Vince discovered he really did like being watched – something of the performer, the attention-seeker in him thrilled at knowing Howard was getting off on looking at him handle himself.

"Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself", Howard said softly into his neck.

"Think about you, Howard ... think about your big hands all over me ... you naked ... kissin' me ... your voice, sounds like cream an' chocolate".

"It's always sweets with you, isn't it?", Howard mocked gently.

"Imagine you callin' me names".

"What kind of names?", Howard asked in surprise.

"Call me names like swee'heart and darlin' while you touch me", Vince moaned.

"Oh, okay ... I thought you meant ... never mind".

Vince started making little noises of pleasure; partly genuine, partly to encourage himself, partly to show off and get Howard excited. He wanted to get Howard so aroused that he'd forget himself and join in. But Howard didn't, although his breathing sounded more ragged and uneven.

Vince had thought he would come almost straight away, but either it was a bit harder with an audience, or the whiskey had deadened his nerves a little.

"Did you like me smellin' of cum while you hugged an' kissed me in the van, Howard?", Vince asked with a gasp.

"I loved it", Howard whispered. "Made me want to clean you off with my tongue".

That did it – Vince gave an intake of breath, and came all over himself, while Howard murmured his admiration for Vince's accomplishment, holding him even tighter.

Howard didn't clean Vince off with his tongue though – he went to the bathroom and got a damp flannel to wipe him down with.

"I've got to have a shower", Howard said.

"No, _don't_ go to the shower again", Vince pleaded. "Do it here in front of me, Howard, or let me in the shower with you".

"Not a chance", said Howard.

"Why is it okay for you to watch me, but wrong for me to watch you?", Vince asked.

"They're probably both wrong, but I'm not doing two wrong things. Not on the same night, anyway", said Howard as he beat a hasty retreat.

From which you can tell that, like that of most of us, Howard's system of ethics and morality had got itself into a right old muddle.

****************************************************

Vince wriggled himself under the covers and lay in Howard's bed, his face on Howard's pillow, the scent of Howard all around him and all over him. He didn't think he had ever been so comfortable in his whole life. After a few minutes, Howard came back smelling of soap and damp hair, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Did you want a shower too, Vince?", he asked.

"Nah, you like me stinking of cum", Vince teased.

Howard leaned down and gave Vince a nipping little kiss on his throat.

"What did you think about in the shower?", Vince asked.

"All the things you said", said Howard with a blush. "And I felt like the biggest pervert in the world, because you sounded so innocent".

Vince smiled. Some part of his brain stored the knowledge that Howard liked him being innocent – although this in itself was a sign he was less so.

Vince went to the toilet, and cleaned himself up a bit in the bathroom. When he got back, Howard was dressed in blue-striped flannelette pyjamas, and waiting for him.

"Come on, let's go to bed", said Howard, holding out his hand to Vince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My head canon is that the Forest of Death is the equivalent of the Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire, and Vince and Bryan lived together in Puzzlewood – because it's always the inspiration for any weird, mystical forests in English fantasy literature. If so, the nearest town would be Coleford. 
> 
> There are actually plenty of schools around here, both primary and secondary, that Bryan could have sent Vince to as a day student. Perhaps Bryan worried that could be a security risk, and that everyone would soon come to know Vince's unique circumstances and the location of the forest, or that Vince could become known as the freak forest kid, or government agencies might get involved in his welfare. He may have also believed that Vince would have a more normal adolescence going to boarding school.
> 
> There are lots of boarding schools in the Cotswolds, so Vince and Howard probably attended one of them, or something similar that only exists in their world. Bryan Ferry's sons in our world went to the very posh Marlborough College, in this general area. 
> 
> I just made up the "old Swahili proverbs", although later on I found there is a real Swahili proverb a bit similar to the second one: the sentiment existing in many cultures, I expect. Vince's mangling of the second proverb reminds me a little of Blaise Pascal's well-known saying: "The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing".
> 
> On Guy Fawke's Day in 1995, the official "guy" for that year was French president Jacques Chirac, who was burned in effigy. Chirac had run a series of nuclear tests in the Pacific, knowing that a ban of nuclear tests was to be signed the next year. There were worldwide protests, and an embargo on French products.
> 
> I know having Not-Celia is a bit of cheek, but of course it is a completely AU version of her, not the real Dee from our world. The age difference between them is about right, I believe.


	8. I Won't Sell These Days to Anybody Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince meets yet another familiar sex pest, and Howard comes clean about his dirty past. A warning that this chapter contains a character death, in line with canon, and rated G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't need anybody else  
> And I promise I won't sell these days  
> To anybody else in the world but you  
> No one but you
> 
> Glory Days – Pulp 
> 
> Most gay men fancied Julian, which always surprised him. There was something about Julian which attracted quite a following of gay men. ~ Noel Fielding

Vince woke to find himself alone in bed. The curtains were open, with pale morning November sun giving light to the room, and he was warm between the soft sheets. On the other side of the bed he could see the space where Howard had been, the shape of his head still in the pillow, the bedding wrinkled where he had lain.

He pulled on his jeans, and went in search of Howard. Vince could hear noises in the kitchen, and when he came through, he could see Howard getting cutlery out of drawers to set the table, having already made two cups of tea.

"Alright, Howard?", asked Vince. "You're up early".

"Good morning, Vince", said Howard as he turned around, giving a shy smile that got buried in his moustache, but left little crinkled lines around his eyes. "I get up early nearly every morning to do an exercise routine to jazz music: it's called Jazzercise. Got to stay jazzy fresh, and jazzy fit".

"You look well fit", said Vince slyly.

Howard blushed. He grabbed a sage green jumper from the back of a chair, and tossed it at Vince.

"Put that on, you'll freeze otherwise", Howard said, who may have noticed Vince's goose-pimpled skin, or perhaps his nipples stiff with cold through his tee-shirt. It might have been a coincidence that's where his eyes had gone to on Vince's body.

Vince pulled the jumper over his head, luxuriating in its warmness, and the fact it smelled of Howard. He rolled the sleeves up over his wrists, and sat at the table.

"Would you like half a grapefruit, Vince?", asked Howard, as he sliced one in two.

"Oh, no thanks, Howard", said Vince, pulling a face.

"What about a banana, then?", Howard suggested. "You should have some fruit".

"Yeah, I love bananas, thanks", said Vince, taking one from the fruit bowl on the table and beginning to peel it. "I got hooked on bananas as a kid, when the monkey folk in the forest used to share theirs with me".

"Oh here we go, more of this wacky childhood story", said Howard, digging a spoon into his grapefruit. "It's like you read _The Jungle Book_ one too many times when you were young".

" _The Jungle Book_ was my favourite story growing up", agreed Vince. "There was so much in it I could relate to, and sometimes I pretended the forest was a jungle in India".

"So were you friends with the monkey folk?", asked Howard, with some irony.

"I _thought_ they were my friends, except I didn't realise they were only giving me bananas so that they could steal my face once I had a little sleepie", said Vince solemnly.

"Excuse me? Steal your _face_?", said a flabbergasted Howard, getting interested despite himself. "And did they?".

"Well, I've never been quite sure", said Vince thoughtfully. "Sometimes I think that's why my face looks a bit weird, because they took it, and then stuck it back on crooked or something".

"Your face doesn't look weird", said Howard, staring at Vince. "It looks ... really ... Pancakes?".

"What?", asked Vince. Did Howard just say his face really looked like _pancakes_?

"Would you like some pancakes now, Vince?", asked Howard with a cough, going to the stove to begin cooking.

"Oh yeah ... genius. Thanks, Howard", said Vince.

He wondered why Howard hadn't finished what he was going to say about Vince's face. Vince may not have realised there is a big difference between telling someone they're beautiful when they're drunk and half-naked in your bed at night, and telling them they're beautiful in sober daylight over the breakfast table the next morning.

"I was sorry to hear about your former babysitter, Vince", Howard said, heating the frying pan. "In your letter. I know Julie was an important part of your childhood, and the news must have come as a shock".

"Thanks Howard. Yeah, I was really upset when Bryan told me, really sad".

"Is it okay if I ask ... how it happened?".

"Old age", replied Vince.

"Julie died of old _age_?", said a stunned Howard. "And she was your babysitter only ten years or so ago? Well, she really was an amazing woman".

"You don't know the half of it", Vince assured him.

Vince finished the last bite of his banana – Vince eating banana was another activity from which Howard tended to avert his gaze.

"When I was a kid, I used to think the black bits in banana were tarantula eggs", Vince told Howard.

"And you still _ate_ them?".

"Yeah, figured the eggs wouldn't hatch in my stomach".

"But you know what they are now?", Howard asked.

"They're seeds, aren't they? I think we covered it in Biology class", Vince said after a moment.

Howard looked relieved that Vince had learned a few things at least, and wasn't a complete feral child.

When the pancakes were ready, Howard brought them over and put a stack in front of Vince. There was butter, strawberry jam, honey, and Nutella on the table, and Vince put a mixture of everything on his pancakes before picking the stack up in his fingers and biting into it.

"These are great Howard", Vince said indistinctly through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're a brilliant cook".

Howard ate his with lemon juice and sugar, using a knife and fork.

"I have to go to a rehearsal this morning for a couple of hours", Howard announced. "I can drop you off on the way, if you want. Or you're welcome to hang around here until I get back. It's up to you".

"Oh, I'll stay here and wait for you", said Vince, his face lighting up with one of his sunniest smiles.

"I'd cancel rehearsal, except Horace has been really down since his wife left, and the band is the only thing keeping him going right now", Howard said apologetically.

"That's alright, Howard", Vince reassured him. "I don't mind waiting".

"So ... er, are you feeling okay this morning?", Howard asked awkwardly. "No ill effects?".

"Yeah ... I had a great sleep, and I liked everything that happened", said Vince.

Howard couldn't help a smirk coming over his face as he replied, "That's good".

Finishing his last mouthful of tea, Howard got up and gave Vince a quick kiss on the back of the neck as he was bent over his breakfast.

"That jumper looks really good on you", he said. "It's the one I wore when I worked at the zoo".

"Oh, is it?", said Vince, looking down at it. "I wish I'd known you then".

"You would only have been a little kid", Howard said as he turned to leave. "Back in a few".

Vince thought to himself that Howard wouldn't have been a little kid though, and he would have liked meeting him when he was nineteen or twenty, not much older than Vince was now. Bryan would never have permitted Vince to visit a zoo though – he was strongly opposed to wild animals being kept in cages. That's what the forest was for.

Five minutes later, Howard returned with his trumpet case, and pulled on his jacket, which already had a poppy badge pinned to its lapel.

"Make yourself at home while I'm gone; help yourself to anything you want - what's mine is yours", Howard said. "I'll be back soon".

He kissed Vince gently on the cheek as he left.

"Yeah right, see ya", said Vince, just too late.

A few seconds later, the front door opened again.

"I'll miss you", Howard called out.

"Me too", Vince called back.

The lock on the door clicked into place, and Vince heard Howard's feet heading towards the stairs. He could hardly contain his feelings of happiness that Howard was going to miss him while he was at rehearsal.

*************************************************

Vince didn't have a lot of experience with domestic tasks, but he knew how to wash dishes, so he washed up the breakfast things. He even found a clean tea towel and dried them, and by peering into cupboards and drawers, made a stab at where they were all meant to go, and put them away.

Vince looked at the phone in the kitchen. He should really let Leroy know where he was, and Howard _had_ said to help himself to anything he wanted ... He dialled the boarding house number, and when one of the residents answered, asked to speak to Leroy.

"Leeee-ROY!", shouted the boy. "PHO-OO-ONE!".

"Hello?", said Leroy.

"Hi Leroy, it's Vince. I stayed at a friend's place last night, and I'll be back a bit later. So don't worry, okay?".

"Vince", said Leroy, in the flat, emotionless tone that meant people were hanging around, listening in to their conversation. "Thanks for letting me know you're okay. See you when I see you".

"Cheers, mate".

"Right. Bye".

Having done his duty, Vince put two coins next to the phone to pay for the call, and went to the bedroom. He had an idea Howard liked things to be neat and tidy, so he made the bed, thinking of how he and Howard had held each other the night before. He hoped he would be back in Howard's bed very soon.

Vince didn't have a lot of experience with most domestic tasks, but making his own bed every morning had been mandatory at school, and he had to make his own bed at the boarding house as well, so he knew how to tuck in sheets and blankets, and smooth down a duvet well enough. He even fluffed the pillows a bit.

Vince stripped off his clothes, went to the bathroom, and got into the shower, remembering that Howard had told him to make himself at home, and that everything of Howard's belonged to him. He washed himself all over with Howard's bar of soap that smelt of nothing except soap, and used Howard's shampoo that didn't promise to do anything to your hair except clean it.

Under the warm water, Vince imagined what would happen if Howard came home early, and slipped into the shower with him. Howard's skin against his, Howard calling him _little man_ , whispering it against his ear, the steam rising around them. Vince's hand helped his fantasy along, thinking of their mouths pressed together, Howard holding Vince while he begged and pleaded for Howard to touch him. Release came against the white tiles of the shower, against which a little more whiteness went unnoticed.

Out of the shower, skin pink and glowing, Vince dried himself on a towel Howard had left out for him, and also discovered that Howard had left him a spare toothbrush. He used Howard's deodorant, which smelt of nothing, and examined himself in the mirror. Blond hair damp and messy, no make-up, not even any moisturiser. The last time Vince could remember looking as if he'd done nothing to himself except get clean was when he was a little kid. It was strange, seeing himself bare, like a blank canvas.

He heard the front door open, and wrapped the brown towel around his hips: it was so large that it lapped him like a sarong. He couldn't wait to see Howard, and definitely couldn't wait to get dressed. Some part of him may have been hoping it was barely even worthwhile getting dressed ...

***************************************************

Vince had only taken a few steps out of the bathroom before he realised the person in the flat wasn't Howard. Their footsteps didn't sound as heavy, and there was a sneaky tip-toe noise to them that suggested the person knew they weren't supposed to be there.

Vince didn't have a weapon to defend himself. He didn't even have clothes on. Nonetheless, he went out prepared to come after them like a Cockney bitch, ready to fight tooth and nail to take out whoever had broken into Howard's flat. Teeth and nails were all he had, really.

Vince walked into the kitchen on his bare, still-damp feet, and saw a pudgy man with short brown curls, squeezed into a powder blue safari suit several sizes too small, so that his stomach showed through the straining buttons. He was prowling around the kitchen, as if searching for evidence.

"Get out of here, you stocky blue ... snoop burglar!", shouted Vince in his loudest, most threatening voice.

The man turned around, not looking threatened in the least. He eyed Vince up and down in a speculative manner.

"Well ... I always knew Howard liked them young, but I didn't know he'd taken to fucking _children_ ", he said. He had an American accent, and a babyish tone to his voice. "And I mean, literally _fucking_ children".

"I'm not a child", Vince said, sounding impossibly young. "I'm seventeen and almost a half".

"Really? I thought you were about ten", the man drawled. "I notice you don't deny the fucking".

"It's none of your business", Vince said icily. "But if you must know, I'm Howard's nephew".

"Ooh, someone has a naughty uncle", the man said in a sing-song. "I'd never have sex with any of _my_ relatives, except Aunt Gladys, Mommy's identical twin sister. And my therapist told me that's completely normal.

"At least, he wasn't really a therapist, just a good friend", he added. "Well, not really a friend – more someone I knew casually. And when I say casually, I mean that I saw him at the bus station in Omaha one time. And I shouted it out to him, and he didn't so much tell me it's normal as shriek and call the cops. Huh, some therapist, right?".

"Whoever you are, you need to get out of Howard's flat _now_!", Vince said.

"I'm Bob Fossil, cupcake. And this isn't Howard's flat, it's mine".

"Are you ... are you Howard's boyfriend?", asked Vince in a quavering voice.

"Well, if you mean do Howard and I walk on the beach at sunset holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes, then the answer is a big fat puking no", Bob said. "But if you mean, do I make violent love to Howard, then the answer is a big fat even-more-puking-involved yes. So say hello to your Auntie Bobby, sweetie".

Vince was unable to say anything, it felt as if his entire throat had closed up and was burning.

"Something else naughty Uncle Howard might not have told you", Bob said with a suggestive wink. "He's a man whore, and I'm his pimp. So if he's promised that you're the only one riding his majestic stallion cock, then think again, pudding pop. There's quite a line for it.

"And don't ever flatter yourself that Howard is in love with you. He's in love with little Tommy Nooka, and he always will be", Bob added spitefully.

Vince felt sick. He trembled right through his thin body, tears gathering behind his eyes. He ran back into the bedroom, and began struggling into his clothes as quickly as possible.

He couldn't believe how thick he'd been, thinking that Howard had nobody else except Vince. Thinking that Howard wouldn't have a sex life, just because he was so careful not to have sex with Vince. Not putting any of the clues together ... _I have to do all sorts of things to get by_ ... _You'd be surprised what a man will do when he's desperate_.

He'd actually thought that Howard might love him, might care about him ... how thick, how bloody thick was he? Howard was in love with Tommy Nooka, whoever that was.

Vince did up his trainers, his shoulders shaking and his chest aching. His breathing was raw and uneven as he stood up, wiping his eyes on the back of his wrist. He walked out the front door of the flat, closing it loudly to let Bob know he was gone – he didn't bother looking to see whether Bob was still there or not. He had no interest in seeing him again.

He went down the stairs, trying not to think about Howard, about the way he looked at Vince, the little kisses he gave him, the way he had taken him into his bed, holding his hand. The way he had come back just to tell Vince that he'd miss him. He was thick. Howard was a ... he didn't know _what_ Howard was.

He came out the front of the flats, suddenly realising he was freezing in only a tee-shirt, just as Howard's van pulled up outside. Vince ignored it, and began walking down the street, away from Howard. He realised he didn't even know exactly where Howard's flat was, but it wasn't far from shops, and that meant there would be a train station or bus stop nearby. He would work it out somehow.

"Vince!", shouted Howard. "Where are you going?".

Vince kept walking, but Howard followed him, and grabbed him by the shoulder. When Vince turned a face made of hurt at him, Howard spoke more gently.

"Vince, what's happened?".

"Leave me alone", said Vince, tugging away from Howard's grasp. "Just let me go".

"Vince, stop, it's eleven o'clock. It's two minutes silence now".

Seeing other people in the street stop and bow their heads, Vince gave Howard a look of fury as if he had timed this on purpose, but did likewise. He was careful to bow his head in such a way that he couldn't see Howard, and he hoped Howard wasn't looking at him either. He trained his eyes determinedly on the pavement below him, and tried to empty his mind.

The two minutes seemed to go on forever, but at last it seemed as if other people were lifting their heads and going about their business. One elderly lady who walked past looked at Vince's red eyes and patted his arm, saying "Bless you love; you've got a good heart".

"Vince", Howard said. "Whatever's happened, let's go up to the flat and you can tell me what's upset you, and if you still want to go home after that, I'll drive you back".

Vince nodded his head once, and turned back for the long trudge up the stairs. Walking just behind him, Howard spoke quietly.

"Can you tell me what happened, please?".

"Your boyfriend came over", Vince said savagely. "Let himself into the flat with his key".

"What boyfriend?", asked Howard in confusion.

"How many do you _have_?", Vince asked, before letting him know. "Bob".

"Bob Fossil? Vince, Fossil's not my boyfriend, he's my landlord. And he's not allowed to use his key to get into the flat, I'm very angry he did that. It's a violation of my rights as a tenant".

Vince didn't know what to do with this information, and they didn't talk the rest of the way up the stairs. They needed their breath for climbing, anyway.

As they entered the flat, Howard led Vince into the kitchen, saying he was probably suffering from shock, and needed a cup of strong, sweet tea. He found the jumper that Vince had discarded in the bedroom, and made him put it on again, saying the cold would have made the shock worse.

While the kettle was boiling, Howard looked at Vince as if he would like to kill the person who made him look red-eyed and miserable.

"So what else did Fossil say?", he asked.

"That he made violent love to you and you were a man whore and he was your pimp and that ... lots of people had sex with you. He thought I was a little kid, and that you were having sex with me".

"What made him think that?", wondered Howard.

"I'd just got out of the shower and was wearing a towel around me when he arrived", said Vince glumly.

Howard swore violently as he filled the teapot, then came over to where Vince was sitting.

"He made you cry", he said, gently wiping tears from Vince's eyes. "I'm so sorry that revolting nutjob came here and upset you. If I'd had any idea he'd do that, I would have taken you with me to rehearsal, or taken you home".

He kissed Vince's eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, the very corner of his mouth.

"So is it true that you and Bob ....?".

Howard sighed.

"Vince, it's a long story, and when you hear it, you might not want to ever see me again. But you deserve to know the truth about me".

**************************************************

Howard and Vince sat on the sofa in the living room together, with a mug of tea each on the coffee table. Howard had put six spoons of sugar in Vince's mug, because he needed sweet tea for shock, and the usual three spoons would just seem like normal tea to Vince.

Howard tried to hold Vince's hand to offer him support, but he pulled his hand away. Howard looked sad, but left his own hands on his thighs.

"When I dropped out of uni, my first full time job was working at a zoo", Howard began. "It was run by a man named Tommy Nooka, and he trained me to be the best damn zookeeper possible. Tommy was a great man, one of the greatest zookeepers to have ever lived".

"Did you love Tommy?", asked Vince.

"Yes Vince, I did", Howard replied quietly.

"Did you ... kiss Tommy?", Vince asked wistfully.

"Yes, Tommy and I were lovers", said Howard. Seeing Vince's expression, he added, "You know, there's not that many twenty-seven year old gay virgins around Vince – although I'm sure the ones who exist are fantastic people with a lot to offer, and are just taking things at their own pace".

"Was Tommy the first person you had sex with?".

"Yes – but during my gap year I travelled through France and Spain, and I messed around with a few guys when I was in Spain. Kind of experimenting, I suppose. There was a party atmosphere on the beaches that made it pretty easy".

"I've always wanted to go to France and Spain", said Vince.

"Well, I would loved to have travelled with you", said Howard. "I mean, if we'd been the same age".

"Was Tommy handsome?", Vince wanted to know.

"To me he was ... a strong, powerful man. Others might have said he had short legs, a big head, and was older than my father. But when you love someone, you see them differently to other people".

"So why aren't you still with Tommy?".

"He died, Vince", said Howard in a voice filled with grief."At least, he fell into the ocelot pit and his body was never recovered. He was declared missing, presumed dead".

"I'm so sorry, Howard", Vince said, putting his hand on Howard's leg sympathetically. He felt ashamed of being jealous of a dead man.

"I was absolutely shattered by Tommy's death. Worst of all, the zoo was bought by a man named Dixon Bainbridge, who employed Bob Fossil to run it. It was a complete disaster – Fossil didn't even know the names of the animals, let alone how to care for them. I was promoted to head zookeeper, and did my best to take Tommy's place, but it was so difficult doing it all on my own.

"Then Fossil began placing ... certain demands on me. He offered to pay me to ... fulfil particular desires of his. He told me if I didn't comply, he would sack me".

"Why didn't you just leave?", Vince asked. "Get another job".

"I should have", muttered Howard, rubbing his brow, "but I loved that zoo too much. I wanted to continue Tommy's work, and it was the place I had met Tommy, and the place where Tommy had disappeared. I believed that Tommy might still be alive, and couldn't leave until I had made every possible effort to find him. Leaving the zoo meant giving up on Tommy, abandoning his legacy – and I couldn't bear to do that".

"So you let Bob Fossil make violent love to you?".

"Is that what he said? I pleasured him, but I never made love to Fossil, or he to me. And the situation only lasted about a year, because the zoo failed and was sold so a road could be put through. I never found Tommy's body, and if it was still there, it's under a bypass now".

"And Bob said you are a prostitute, and he is your pimp", Vince said.

"I'm not a prostitute, Vince – I'm an escort, and Fossil is my booking agent, not my pimp. Although for the past year, I've only had repeat clients or word of mouth contacts, so Fossil hasn't even needed to do that".

"Aren't escort and prostitute the same thing?".

"No. I don't have sex with clients; I escort them to social events, or just offer them companionship. Ladies tend to want an escort to the opera or the bingo, while gentlemen are more likely to want me to come over to play chess or have a mug of cocoa with them".

"And people pay for that?", said Vince in surprise.

"Oh yes. They're usually quite old or ... the sort of people who find it hard to meet a companion. And I scrub up pretty well, if I say so myself".

"And that's all you do – just play chess or go to bingo with them?".

"Well ... little attentions like a kiss on the hand or a hug goodbye are appreciated, and get me tips", Howard admitted. "So there is some physical interaction".

"Is that who rang when I came over that night?", asked Vince.

"Yes – a client needed an escort at short notice, but I'd already made plans with you, Vince. And ... I haven't been with any clients since the night I first saw you", Howard confessed.

"Why not?", asked Vince, hardly daring to breathe.

"Because when the club owner told me there was a fan wanting to see me, I turned around, and saw the most beautiful person in the world", said Howard softly. "I didn't even know how old you were, and I wanted you more than anything else – do you know how that made me feel? How much I disgusted myself?".

"But you found out".

"The club owner told me you were at art school, so I knew then you must be at least sixteen. And then later you told me yourself you were seventeen. I was actually relieved to discover you were only a few months underage".

Vince's heart began beating faster again. He stretched his hand towards Howard's, but this time it was Howard who pulled away, as if wanting Vince to really listen to what he said first.

"Vince, you were in my head, all the time. I went looking for you, telling myself I just wanted to make sure you had got home safely. I saw you at the bakery, and knew you were okay, but I still kept thinking about you, just the same. You see, I'd convinced myself that I'd only seen you for a second at the club, and it was probably an illusion, a trick of the light and imagination. Then in the bakery ... I saw it wasn't an illusion. You were even more beautiful by day than by night, if that's possible".

Howard looked down, his voice low and almost painful to listen to.

"I told myself to put you out of my mind, but I couldn't. Until the night I became obsessed with the thought you were in terrible danger of some kind. I thought I'd finally cracked and gone insane, especially sitting outside a student bar for hours, just because I'd seen you go in there.

"And then you came out ... not alone. I tried to tell myself you might just be with friends, but when I followed, I knew something wasn't right. I still have nightmares about that", Howard said. "It was those minutes when I couldn't see you ... I didn't know what they were doing to you. I still don't".

"I can't really remember, Howard", said Vince apologetically. "I was stupid drunk, but I'm pretty sure they were looking for someone to rape, or beat up, or both. Someone too drunk to fight back or even scream for help".

Howard made an anguished noise in his throat.

"Did they touch you?", he asked.

"I'm not sure", admitted Vince. "They might have done".

"I took you home with me", said Howard, "but the whole time I kept thinking that I was no better than the men from the bar, my desires were just as sick and twisted as theirs".

"Don't be a berk, Howard", said Vince. "You saved me, you helped me – you didn't do anything wrong".

"I wonder if that's how it would appear to others?", Howard said. "And I found out you were seventeen, which didn't sound as bad as ... the worst case scenarios I'd been fearing. And I really liked talking to you, and found out you had been thinking about me too. So I told myself that we could just be friends – there's no law against being friends with beautiful seventeen year old boys".

Howard gave a small rueful chuckle. He reached over, and ran his fingers through a strand of Vince's hair.

"And when I realised I had deluded myself and I wanted you more and more every time I saw you ... I promised that I would never let you know. Not until you were eighteen. I promised myself I would never touch you ... but I broke that rule again and again".

He shook his head at his folly, and held Vince's face in one hand. Vince trembled slightly under his touch, until Howard dropped his hand with a sigh.

"I made one excuse after another, Vince; I lied to myself until I couldn't see what was real and what was false any more. I didn't want to face the simple truth: that I'd seen you at the club, and ever since I hadn't been able to think about anything else, or anyone else".

"But Howard – it's just the same for me", said Vince. "I feel the same way about you, and you said we could be secret boyfriends because I'm underage".

"Vince, can't you see that you deserve a lot better?", said Howard sadly. "You're young, and pure, and innocent, and I'm old, and tarnished, and filthy like an old shoe".

"You're only twenty-seven", Vince argued. "That's still young. And I can't see how you're any more tarnished than I am".

"I've already been in love – I can't give you an untouched heart. And I prostituted myself to a vile man, and I work part-time as an escort".

"So what? You had _one_ boyfriend. I had more than thirty girlfriends at school just last year. I'm not a virgin. And you were forced into prostitution, and you said you haven't been an escort since we met".

"Wow, more than thirty girlfriends in one academic year?", queried Howard. "I know you like girls as well, but do you like them for any more than a _week_?".

"Ah, you're teasing me", smiled Vince. "I guess I did get bored with them pretty quick, but another one always came along straight away. I haven't been in love before, but I'm only seventeen. You didn't fall in love until you were older than that".

"I was nineteen and a half", said Howard. "The age of consent between men was twenty-one back then, so I was underage by eighteen months".

"And how old was Tommy?".

"Forty-seven".

"Well, isn't this better? I'm only around six months underage, and we're only ten years apart. And wasn't Tommy all old and tarnished and stuff compared to you?".

Howard looked offended, saying, "He was a man of experience, Vince, and he'd been a bit wild in his youth. But he was also gentle, and kind, and never hurt me, or betrayed me. Not once. You mustn't say things like that about Tommy, Vince. He was my first love, and I will always be true to his memory".

"I can't see how you're any different to your first boyfriend, except younger, taller, less wild, and not my boss. And you're gentle and kind, and you would never hurt me or betray me either. If Tommy was okay, then you are too, or even better".

"The difference is that I wasn't seventeen. And you might think there's no difference between seventeen and a half and nineteen and a half, but there is. I was an adult. I was working full time. I'd been to uni and travelled abroad. That's really different to being seventeen and still at school".

"I can't help that I met you now, and not two years later", said Vince. "I think I'm the sort who finds love early in life".

"Anyway, you know the truth now", said Howard. "After everything I've told you, do you still want me?".

He looked into Vince's eyes, waiting for him to say something.

The moment seemed endless.


	9. Angel Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince and Howard get physical, and Vince encounters one of Howard's friends. This chapter is mostly smut, but they're just getting to know each other so it's not that dirty. I know this has an E rating now, but it's romance rather than erotica: it's about their relationship. But people in romantic relationships tend to do sexy stuff together sometimes. (Ratings stress me out, can you tell? I always feel that if you have an E rating, then readers will expect nonstop hardcore porn).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel child of mine
> 
> Angel Child – Oasis 
> 
> I once had a dream I saw God. I was William Blake in the dream. ~ Noel Fielding

Vince thought his heart might have stopped beating, or maybe he was holding his breath. Howard had just asked Vince if he still wanted him, and somehow he couldn't answer straight away.

"Isn't it pretty obvious?", he finally managed to get out.

"I need to hear it", said Howard. "I need to know you're absolutely sure".

Vince wanted to shout, _Of course I'm sure Howard, I want you, I want you_. He wanted to open the windows and yell it into the street – _I want Howard Moon! Yeah, this bloke here! He's genius!_ But there was no voice in him.

So instead Vince leaned forward and grabbed on to Howard, the way a drowning man grips a lifeline that's thrown to him, out of the darkness, into the cold sea around him. Howard looked at him questioningly, and then Vince threw himself into Howard's arms. Howard caught him, his hands under Vince's thighs and arse as if he was lifting him into the van, pulling him onto his lap.

Vince pressed his lips against Howard's, and kissed him full on the mouth.

"So ... does that mean you're sure?", Howard asked.

"Of course it does Howard, you berk", said Vince, taking another kiss from his lips.

"Absolutely sure?".

"Yes, Howard. I'm absolutely sure this is what I want", said Vince, kissing again, and wrapping his arms around Howard's neck.

He felt Howard relax this time, as if finally convinced. Howard slid his mouth against Vince's, his lips warm, and a little brush of his tongue that made Vince's stomach feel hot and tight. Vince snuggled closer into Howard, his thighs gripping Howard's hips; they felt each other, body to body, breath to breath. Howard held Vince's face, kissing him deeply.

Vince had kissed both girls and boys, known the softness of a girl's lips, and the demanding hardness of a boy's mouth against his. He thought Howard was like both and neither – his lips were soft and giving, but behind them he could feel something powerful, something that could be rough like an animal, that could tear at him desperately. A great hunger that was being held in check.

After snogging Howard for a few minutes, Vince also thought he had figured something out. Whatever he did, Howard would return it at the same intensity, as if determined that he would give Vince exactly what he wanted, and nothing more. Vince tested this by giving Howard a succession of very gentle little kisses, and Howard kissed him back lightly. Then Vince kissed Howard hard, biting a little at his lip, and Howard kissed Vince with an aching fervour, holding him tighter and putting his hands under Vince's shirt.

Vince pushed himself against Howard's cock, squirming onto its hardness, and running his fingers through Howard's dark hair. He gave a little whine as Howard put his hands under his arse and pulled him in closer, so Vince could feel him better. He kissed Vince's jawline and down his neck – hot, damp, biting kisses that felt as he was claiming Vince, marking him as his own. He lifted Vince's shirt and jumper in order to put a line of kisses on his stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

Just as their lips met again, a voice spoke from across the room.

"Howard? Howard, are you there, you ballbag?".

"Howard? Um, I think ... your telly is talking to you", said Vince, turning to look.

The TV screen was black and empty, switched off. But again came the voice from it.

"You idiot, you haven't got the picture on, only the sound!". A muffled deep apologetic noise, and then, "Well, keep fiddling with it. Honestly, some familiar you are".

The TV suddenly came on in brightest living colour, showing the face of a man or boy with smooth black hair wearing a purple turban; it was almost impossible to tell his age, and he might have been even younger than Vince.

"Yeah, that's it now, thanks", the face said, looking over his shoulder. Then facing forward again, "Howard, Fossil has been around again ... can't you keep him under control? I don't want him here, putting his hands all over me and chatting my familiar up".

"Uh, sorry about that Naboo", said Howard, "but I can't really stop him from leaving his flat. He's caused trouble here too, and I've kind of got my hands full right now".

"Yeah, I can see that", Naboo deadpanned.

"Oh, I didn't realise that you could see me as well", said Howard with a cough. "Er, this is a friend of mine who's visiting".

"Mm, Fossil told us about that and all", replied Naboo. "Look Howard, I need you to come over. There's some bad juju going down in this manor that I can't discuss over the telly in case it's being psychically bugged or something. Bring your friend with you".

"Okay, Naboo", said Howard, suddenly serious. "We'll be over later this afternoon. I don't know what we can do to help, but we'll do our best".

"Thanks, Howard. Over and out", replied Naboo, before they heard, "Time to switch it off. If you could switch it _on_ you can switch it _off_ , yeah? It's hopeless if you make me do everything myself. Look, it's this button here - ". Naboo vanished.

"Howard, who was that on your telly?", asked Vince.

"That was my friend Naboo. He worked at the zoo as well", Howard replied.

"Naboo - is he Indian, like Mr Kapoor?".

"No, Vince. He's from much further away than India".

"New Zealand or something?".

"Even further".

"And how did he get on the telly?".

"He's a shaman – able to travel beyond time and space, and to wield powerful magic", said Howard reverently.

"So he used magic to contact you on the telly?".

"Partly magic, partly something rigged up by his mate Pete, who works at Dixons", Howard replied.

"We're going to see him?", asked Vince, not sounding very happy. He and Howard had just been getting started when Naboo had interrupted.

"Naboo saved my life, Vince", Howard said quietly. "I owe him everything, and if he asks for my help, I will always give it".

"How did he save you? Was it when you fought the kangaroo?".

"No, it was – Oh no, you're right! It _was_ Naboo who called the RSPCA and got them to cancel the fight. He saved my life more than once", said Howard. "I am forever in his debt".

"Oh, okay then", said Vince. "I guess I'm in his debt too, because I wouldn't have you now if he hadn't saved you".

He sat awkwardly on Howard's lap, not sure how they could get back to snogging after going on about magic and saving lives.

"So ... um ... do we need to talk some more about this?", asked Howard. "About ... us?".

Vince shook his head, then closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Howard's. Howard cupped Vince's face, and began kissing him very slowly; sweet kisses that were like nothing Vince had ever known until this moment.

"Um Vince, before ... it seemed like you wanted something ... well, a bit more than kissing", Howard blushed.

"Yeah, please Howard", said Vince eagerly.

Howard swivelled around and lay down on the sofa, pulling Vince on top of him with his strong arms, encouraging Vince to straddle him with a knee on either side of Howard's hips. Howard hesitated, as if he didn't want to force Vince into anything more, his hands not quite touching him. Vince didn't move either.

"Fossil said there was a line of people waiting to do this", he said slowly.

"Fossil's word is not to be trusted", said Howard. "I'm all yours, Vince – and there's nobody else except you, I promise".

Vince looked down into Howard's little brown eyes – they were vulnerable, not just sensitive, he realised. He lightly put his hands on Howard's chest, and could feel his heart beating, thudding at the same rate as Vince's. Vince leaned over and dropped a kiss on Howard's mouth with a little lick against his bottom lip, to let him know everything was alright.

Vince shifted forward and pressed himself onto Howard's cock, feeling its hardness and heaviness against his own. He made a little noise as he ground his hips in circles over every inch of Howard he could feel. It felt like quite a few inches, a lot of Howard to explore. And then he felt Howard arch upwards, digging himself more heavily into Vince, as his hands slid up to hold Vince's thighs, to guide his hips.

"Fossil said you were like a majestic stallion", Vince suddenly giggled.

"Please, Vince – I can't stay hard if you keep talking about bloody Fossil!", Howard complained.

"You feel well hard", purred Vince. "You feel so good, Howard. Really big. Makes me want to do _this_ ".

He rubbed himself faster against Howard, in ever decreasing circles, until Howard gave a low groan. Vince could feel Howard throbbing beneath him.

"Have you done this before, Vince?", Howard asked, panting a little.

"Not like this".

"How?".

"With me on the bottom, and a girl on top", explained Vince.

"Oh yes, the girl of the week", teased Howard.

"I like this way better", admitted Vince. "Because it's with you".

"You'd enjoy it a lot more if you took your jeans off", said Howard. "You'd feel everything better. I mean, I'm not telling you to do that ... but if you _want_ to ...".

Vince quickly tugged his jeans off and left them on the floor, and returned to straddling Howard, just wearing his pants. He rubbed himself on Howard's cock, feeling it get even harder as he did so. Howard's corduroy trousers were soft and worn, yet with little ridges to create friction, and instead of a zipper he had an old-fashioned fly that did up with buttons, carefully tucked away under a line of fabric. It was if someone had invented corduroy trousers specifically so you could get off on them, which was very thoughtful of the inventor.

"That's so good", Howard said, just below a growl. "You like that?".

"Mm, yeah", panted Vince, not able to say anything else.

Vince lay on top of Howard, almost flat against him. After longing for Howard, unable to touch him the way he wanted to, he was almost dizzy at feeling Howard's body beneath him, just as he'd fantasised. Vince moved his hips as if trying to get even closer, snogging Howard urgently. Howard held Vince in place with his hands spread wide over his thighs and arse, guiding Vince into a fast, heavy motion, moving with him and against him each time.

Vince felt his pants getting wet, and let out a moan, Howard's cock pressed against him. Howard's fingers were inside Vince's pants, pulling the curve of his arse harder into Howard's body, his thumb between Vince's cheeks, brushing a spot that made Vince squirm. Vince's mouth was open, making formless sounds; he trembled as he dragged himself over the ridge of Howard's hard cock again and again.

"You're perfect, you're wonderful", Howard said, just as Vince came with a shudder.

Howard kissed his wet, open mouth; Vince not even able to return it, he was breathing so hard.

"You look beautiful when you come, little man", an awestruck Howard told him.

"Really? Isn't my face all ... screwed up and weird looking?", asked Vince.

"No, you look as if you are seeing heavenly visions", Howard told him. "I don't suppose you actually did see angels or something, like William Blake?".

"Nah, it just felt really good and that, and then I jizzed in my pants", said Vince.

"It won't inspire you to a great work of art?".

"Mm, maybe. We'll have to see", Vince smiled. "But Howard – you haven't come. Just me".

"I'm not a teenager", said Howard. "Probably need a bit more than that for a tired old man".

"You could always show me", suggested Vince, unbuttoning Howard's shirt, and getting off him to sit on the edge of the sofa.

"You'd like to see that?", asked Howard, giving Vince a wolfish sideways smile.

"Please", Vince said.

He stroked Howard's bare chest, gently touching the scars. Apart from those, his chest was so smooth Vince could hardly believe it. You would think Howard was the seventeen-year-old from the amount of hair he had.

"My scars don't freak you out, do they?", asked Howard anxiously.

"No, they're well sexy", Vince assured him. "Make you seem really tough".

Vince watched Howard undo his belt buckle, unbutton his trousers, take his cock out of his pants. It was even thicker than Vince had imagined, and he eyed it with a mixture of curiosity and lust. He ran his tongue over Howard's nipples, giving them a soft experimental suck, while Howard stroked his own cock, his arm moving heavily, as if his cock felt weighty even for him to hold. He came while Vince was kissing him, a little encouragement.

"See, you just needed an extra minute", said Vince, gently nuzzling Howard's hair, which had got messier and messier the longer they fooled around. "You're not old and tired".

"So what did _my_ face look like?", Howard asked.

"Kind of screwed up and weird looking", said Vince with a laugh. "Like _this_ ".

He gave an imitation with his eyes rolled back in his head and his tongue hanging out at an angle that made Howard give him an affectionate little push at the teasing.

Howard mumbled something as he used the tissues next to the sofa, and pulled his pants back on, doing up his trousers. He stole a little glance at Vince, as if checking to see he was okay with everything that had happened.

"So what are we doing now, Howard?", asked Vince, like a kid who's already had one treat and is greedy for another.

"Well, I thought I might take you to the bedroom, Vince", said Howard in an official tone, as if announcing a planned itinerary. "Then perhaps we could snog in bed for a while, and if you're agreeable, ahem, I'd like to caress you a little bit. Of course, you are more than welcome to caress me in return if you'd like".

"That sounds genius", said Vince, giggling at Howard's formal methods of seduction.

"Then come on, little man", said Howard fondly.

He scooped Vince up into his arms, and carried him off. Vince put his arms around Howard's neck and kissed him. He still found it hard to stop giggling, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first webcam was sold commercially in 1994, the year before this story begins. I suspect that Pete from Dixons rigged one up for Naboo, and then he used magic to broadcast from it onto Howard's television set, in far better detail than an early webcam, so that the image was of TV quality.


	10. Your Animal's Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard finds shopping with Vince surprisingly stressful. Vince and Howard discover each of them is just a little more out of the ordinary than they previously thought. And Naboo has some disturbing news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What turns you on  
> Now your animal's gone?
> 
> Animal Nitrate – Suede 
> 
> I'm generally annoying a lot of the time. I can sense it in people's eyes. And I'm paranoid, too, which fits together well. ~ Julian Barratt

"I don't think I can put these pants back on", said Vince, sitting on the edge of the bed.

It was about an hour since Howard had carried him off, and he'd been snogged until his lips were red and swollen, having gone a few rounds with the mouth of one Howard "Monsoon" Moon, kangaroo boxer and kisser extraordinaire. He'd also had Howard's hands stroking him nearly all over. Howard wouldn't touch his cock, but Vince had come in his pants again, thrusting against Howard's thigh while Howard held and encouraged him.

Hence the reason why his pants were now quite wet and slippery.

"Just leave them with me, Vince", said Howard, as he buttoned up a clean shirt.

"Why, what are you going to do with them?", asked Vince.

"Wash them. Eventually".

"And _before_ they get washed?", asked Vince innocently.

"Well, ahem, as long as you have no objections, I was planning to use them as ... an aid to self-pleasure", Howard said, not looking at Vince.

"You mean you're going to wank off into my pants?", said Vince with a grin.

"Ahem. Quite possibly", said Howard. "Maybe one or two other things".

"You are so _pervy_ , Howard", Vince said in delight.

"Is that pervy?", asked Howard worriedly.

"You mean wanking into your secret underage boyfriend's pants that are all wet from where you made him come?", enquired Vince. "Yeah, a bit".

"You make it sound so ... debauched", complained Howard. "In my mind, it was very romantic".

"How?".

"Oh, I don't know ... that I'd be thinking about you the whole time", Howard blushed. "How beautiful you are, how much I love kissing and holding you. You make it seem really dirty".

"I like it when you're dirty", Vince said, leaning over to kiss Howard on the cheek.

He pulled on his tight jeans with no pants underneath, which made Howard look as if he was thinking some well dirty things.

"You seem remarkably refreshed", Howard commented.

"Well, I had a little sleepie after", said Vince. "Did you feel me up while I was asleep?".

"No, that wouldn't be right", said Howard. "Unless you _want_ me to feel you up while you're asleep?".

"Mm, maybe", smiled Vince. "Don't forget I like it when you're dirty".

"Well in that case ... we'll see what happens in the future", said Howard, giving his own slightly guilty smile that made Vince's stomach tense up with excitement.

"So are we going to see your friend now?", asked Vince, doing up his trainers.

"Not straight away, no", said Howard. "We should get ourselves a quick lunch, and then - "

"What?".

"- then I have to take you shopping", Howard said with a smile.

He leaned down and kissed Vince, a soft sweet one that started at his mouth and ended on his neck.

*******************************************************

"So why are you taking me shopping?", Vince asked as Howard parked the van. They weren't at the High Street shops, but at a small suburban shopping centre about half a mile further on.

"You don't have any pants", Howard said. "Your tee shirt's dirty, and you don't have a jumper. You can't keep wearing mine; it's too big for you and everyone can tell it's not yours. I can't send you back to the boarding house like that: people will gossip".

"While turning up in a completely different outfit _won't_ cause gossip?", Vince asked.

"Really? People will notice that?", Howard said worriedly. "Even boys?".

"Howard, they're art students! They'd notice straight away if I dyed my hair a quarter shade lighter or wore brown mascara instead of black".

"Couldn't you have got changed last night before leaving?", Howard asked, after thinking a while.

"Yeah well, I guess we'll just have to go with that story", said Vince. "It's the best we've got".

Howard's plan was that they would go to a discount department store, where he'd buy Vince underwear, a plain tee shirt, and a cheap jumper. In his mind, plain and cheap meant forgettable and not worth noticing, as if he could sneak Vince back in disguise. Howard hadn't lived in a boarding house for art college students, where Vince suddenly appearing in nondescript department store clothing would probably cause an immediate sensation, as it was so out of character.

Luckily, there was a vintage clothing store on the way, and Vince immediately said, "Oh yeah – in here Howard!". He tugged impatiently on Howard's jacket.

Howard knew the store well, and shopped there all the time, as a wardrobe full of Hawaiian shirts and pork pie hats would readily attest. It was where he had bought the old-fashioned corduroy trousers he was wearing that had earlier brought Vince so much pleasure. The people who worked in the store would recognise him, and he realised that taking Vince shopping there and buying him clothes would invite awkward questions.

"I can't go in with you, Vince", Howard said. "The staff know me, and they'll want to know who you are". He got out his wallet and gave Vince a fifty euro note as discreetly as he could manage.

"Wow thanks, Howard", said Vince. "You have to let me pay you back though".

"Don't worry about that – just don't take too long. I'll go buy some pants, and meet you back here".

He gave a quick wave as he headed off to the department store. It suddenly struck him that he'd been reckless bringing Vince here, where people recognised him. They should have gone to a different shopping centre, they should have come up with a cover story. He worried that they had already been seen by someone he knew, or that some officious type would take it upon themselves to put in a word.

He could just imagine them, talking to the shopping centre security staff. _I'm so sorry to be a nuisance, it's probably nothing, but there's a man in the shopping centre with a young boy. I'm not sure how old the boy is, he might be around fourteen. It seemed a bit odd, them being together, and I just thought I should let someone know, in case there's something not right about it. Oh thank you, you'll look into it? The man is quite tall, maybe thirty or so, with a moustache ..._

Howard's imagination went into overdrive, with the security staff tracking him down, and sending his description to the local police for further investigation. _Sir, if you wouldn't mind coming down to the station with us ..._ Perhaps they would even find DNA evidence of Vince's semen on his trousers ... _Did you know it is an offence to have sexual relations with a boy under the age of eighteen, Mr Moon?_

By the time he'd worked himself into something approaching panic he had arrived at the department store, and located the menswear section. He wished Vince was here – he wasn't sure which size to buy. He saw a woman shopping with her son, who was medium height and skinny like Vince, and looked to be around the same age. He craned to see what they were buying, and received a cold stare from the woman. God, did he actually _look_ like a pervert, that he couldn't even glance in the direction of a teenager buying pants without being treated like a late-stage child molester?

He bought a pack of pants that he thought was probably Vince's size (the pants looked tiny even in the packet, leading him to wonder if he actually _was_ a pervert after all). He decided to buy two more packs, to keep as spares if Vince ever stayed the night again. Then he thought he might as well go all out, and chose six tee shirts and a couple of jumpers as well. Vince could keep them at his flat, and then he would always have something clean to wear. He didn't want to go through this shopping ordeal ever again.

Howard joined the queue for the checkout, and worried that the woman at the till would notice that he was buying clothes that obviously weren't his size. It seemed she had no interest in his purchases apart from ringing them up and getting money for them, and he revelled in the quiet anonymity of shopping at a discount department store where nobody cared about you in the least. It was positively liberating. He began to think he could have brought Vince, and nobody would give two figs unless they started bumming in the changing room or something.

By the time he got back to the clothing store, he'd talked himself right around, and now thought he'd been completely paranoid about someone reporting him to security just for going shopping with Vince. The woman who'd given him a dirty look probably had a face that looked that way all the time, or maybe she'd thought he might be going to buy up all the pants before they got a shot at them. Howard even decided he wasn't a pervert just for having a secret slightly underage boyfriend who happened to be thin and wear small pants.

Vince still hadn't finished when he got back, so he sat down on a bench to wait for him. That gave him time to get worried again, and within two minutes, he was convinced that the woman who'd glared at him was even now talking to a security staff member about him. _A man was leering at my sixteen-year-old son and trying to look at the pants he was buying ... I insist that you do something about him_. Luckily Vince came out of the store then, already dressed in his new clothes.

"What do you think, Howard?", Vince said, as he sat down next to him. He'd bought a tee-shirt with a bright neon-coloured design on it, and a red jacket.

"You look incredible", said Howard sincerely.

Vince grinned. Howard had found another adjective! Brilliant.

"And look – they were selling these old badges for practically nothing, so I bought ten of them, and pinned them all over the jacket. I've got Roxy Music, David Bowie, The Human League, The Rolling Stones, Gary Numan, Kiss, Judas Priest, Fleetwood Mac, The Who, and Iggy Pop. They're genius, aren't they?".

"They look really good", agreed Howard.

"They didn't have many jazz ones", Vince said, "but I got you this. You said you liked them, right? I paid for it myself".

Vince handed Howard a Weather Report badge, which he pinned on his jacket next to the poppy, saying, "Thank you Vince, that was very thoughtful".

"And I didn't spend all the money; here's your change", said Vince proudly, handing it over.

"Good work", said Howard, putting it in his wallet. "Just one more stop now – there's a chemist along here".

Vince's wondered what they might be getting from the chemist, and he felt quite hopeful it might be for ... but it was practically even better. Howard grabbed a basket, and told him to pick out everything he usually bought for the bathroom.

"Shampoo, make-up, stuff for your hair ... um, body wash, skin cream, deodorant. I don't know all that you need, and the brands you like, so make sure you get the lot".

"But Howard ... that will cost way too much, buying it all at once", said Vince, looking doubtful.

"Doesn't matter. It's so you've got everything you need, next time you stay over".

"There'll be a next time?", asked Vince, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

"Well, I thought we'd been getting along quite well", said Howard, "so it seemed you might like it. You don't have to, though".

Vince's face glowed as if all his Christmases had come at once, and went about filling the basket with a serious-faced zeal and efficiency. Howard never shopped here, he always went to Boots on the High Street, and wasn't bothered about being seen buying a teenage boy make-up and shampoo. The shop was far too busy for anyone to be paying them much attention. By now he'd decided it was absolutely nobody else's business that he was shopping with Vince, and he didn't owe anyone an explanation. Which was good, because nobody asked him for one.

As they came out of the chemist, Vince spotted a photo booth, and dragged Howard over to it, saying they had to get their photo taken together. Howard looked as if he thought this was a really bad idea, but before he could say much more than "Vince ...", he found himself behind the little curtain, squeezed onto the narrow bench with Vince beside him. It was one euro for four photos: one and a half euros for double prints, and Vince eagerly put the coins in.

When they came out, Howard examined his set of prints. They'd taken a serious one, two making faces and messing around, and then on the last photo, Vince had pulled him in for a kiss. He'd known it was very reckless indeed to be kissing an underage teenager at his local shopping centre, even behind a navy blue curtain, but he couldn't resist Vince's lips on his.

He couldn't believe how beautiful Vince looked – unlike with most beautiful people, the camera made him look even more attractive. And that such a beautiful person would want him, would kiss him ... it beggared belief. He would keep taking risks to be with Vince. Howard gently stroked the photos, and put them carefully in his wallet – not on display for others to see, but hidden, so only he knew where they were. That was another risk.

Howard drove Vince back to the flat, and then they put away their bags of shopping. Vince stacked the bathroom cabinet with loving care, making sure he didn't take up more than half the space. His half was crammed full, while Howard's was very sparse. Howard had a look, and told him to spread out a bit more, or he'd never be able to find anything when he needed it.

"I got you some pants, Vince, I hope they're the right size. And I bought a couple of spare packs, and a few clothes you can keep here. I know they're not what you like wearing, but it's just so you'll have clothes here if you need them. You can wear them around the flat, or to bed if you like".

Vince looked through the shopping bag, trying to think of any other way he could interpret Howard's behaviour. But all he could come up with was that it looked as if Howard wanted him to sleep over again, and not just once or twice, but on a regular basis. He'd got his size right too.

Vince thanked Howard by throwing his arms around him, and kissing him again and again. It was too big a gesture for words.

*******************************************************

"Aren't we going in the van to see your mate?", asked Vince in surprise as they walked out the front door of the flats.

"No – Naboo only lives five minutes up the road. We'll walk", said Howard, nudging Vince in the right direction. He wished that he was able to take Vince's hand.

"You're joking. He lives on the same _street_ and he contacted you by television?", said Vince. "He could have just come over".

"Yeah well, shamans like to show off their magic", said Howard. "Besides, he was probably too stoned to walk, and his familiar attracts a lot of attention".

"What's a familiar?".

"It's an animal that goes everywhere with a shaman, and helps him with his magic", replied Howard.

"Oh, you mean like a witch's black cat or something? So what does Naboo have?".

"You'll see in a minute. You probably wouldn't believe me, anyway".

"Wow, this is where Naboo lives?", Vince said when Howard stopped in front of a flat.

It was over a boarded up pie and mash shop, but what Vince most noticed was that the flat was very old, older even than where Howard lived, with windows in the attic roof, and turret rooms in each corner. He thought it looked like something out of a fairy tale.

"Now Vince, before we go in, I must warn you that you may see and hear strange things in this flat", said Howard in a serious voice. "Things that might frighten, or even terrify you. Stay close to me at all times – nothing can harm you as long as you're with me".

Vince obligingly got a bit closer to Howard, wondering what strange things they might see or hear. A window in the flat above opened, and the same turbaned head Vince recognised from the television appeared from it.

"Howard, you ballbag! Are you going to stand out in the street nattering all day, or are you coming up?".

"Right-oh, Naboo", said Howard, looking annoyed but still trying to seem filled with steely determination. His eyes flicked from one side of the street to another, as if looking for hidden dangers.

The door of the flat opened next to them, and Howard said, "Vince, this is my good friend - ".

"Bollo!", screamed Vince, rushing into the arms of the gorilla who had opened the door.

"Vince, precious flower", crooned Bollo, stroking Vince's hair.

"Er, how do you two know each other?", asked a stunned Howard.

"Bollo stayed in the forest on holiday one summer", said Vince with a huge smile.

"My chat show had just been cancelled. Needed to get out of media spotlight, clear my head", explained Bollo.

"I can't believe you still remember me, Bollo – I was only eight last time you saw me".

"Will never forget precious Vince", said Bollo staunchly. "Come in, Harold", he added to Howard.

"It's Howard", said Howard in irritation as he entered.

"Howard, this is amazing. I never thought I'd see Bollo again", said Vince. "He saved me from the monkey folk, we both got holiday jobs working on a French nature documentary that was being made in the forest, we watched _Columbo_ on telly, we ate bananas ... it was a magical summer".

"How is your friend Jahooli the leopard?", asked Bollo.

"I'm sorry Bollo, but he died not long ago", said Vince sadly.

"I had a bad feeling about that", sighed Bollo. "Jahooli was a good leopard, protected Vince well. Bollo honours his passing". He thumped one hand on his chest as a mark of respect, before leading them into the living room.

Naboo was there, sitting cross-legged on the floor and smoking from a hookah. Vince couldn't believe how tiny and colourfully-dressed he was.

"Hey Naboo", said Howard. "Nabooli, Naboolio. How's my main man? Naboo, this is my friend Vince".

Naboo nodded at them both in acknowledgement before getting straight to business.

"There's something bad going down", Naboo said. "Shamans' familiars is going missing, yeah? Barry's bat, Gary's cat, and Harry's rat – all disappeared in the past month".

"Hm, I think I can see a pattern", said Howard, stroking his chin in thought.

"Might be a coincidence, but I've warned Cary to keep a close eye on his sprat", said Naboo. "Oh, and Kirk's goat is gone".

"Sure he didn't just slaughter it in a bizarre sex ritual?", said Howard sceptically.

"Can't be ruled out", admitted Naboo. "Sheila's lost her tortoise as well".

"Now that's interesting", said Howard. "Why would anyone take a tortoise?".

"Won't run away", shrugged Naboo. "Easy pickings. Suggests our perp doesn't mind a soft target".

"Anything to go on?", asked Howard.

"All the disappearances occurred in the East End during the hours of night", said Naboo. "I'm not letting Bollo out after dark".

"What about my deejaying?", frowned Bollo. "I'm meant to do roller disco next Friday".

"Don't worry Bollo. I'll take over all your deejaying gigs until this perp has been dealt with", Howard reassured him. "Your safety is paramount".

"Get stuffed, Harold", said Bollo.

"I'm going to talk to the Shaman Council about this", said Naboo. "Howard, I want you to run nightly patrols of the East End in your van, see if you can spot any suspicious activity".

"Will do", said Howard keenly. "Howard Moon is on the case".

"Do you think I should ask my foster-father Bryan about it?", asked Vince, who had been listening quietly.

"Who's your foster-father?", asked Naboo.

"He the Ferry Man, Lord of the Forest", Bollo chimed in. "He know much about animals. Has trained Vince well".

"Yeah, okay then", said Naboo. "Ask him, and see what he has to say, Vince. Might be worth a shot".

"He rings up every Saturday morning, so I'll talk to him then", Vince said.

"So are you two bumming or something?", enquired Naboo with a gesture at Vince.

"Nobody's bumming anyone", said Howard in alarm. "We're just friends".

"We have to tell people that, because I'm underage", explained Vince. "But really, Howard is my secret boyfriend".

Bollo gave a howl of rage. "No! Harold not touch precious Vince! That wrong!".

"Settle down, Bollo", Vince said. "I'm only a few months under the age of consent and the law's stupid, and we're not bumming or anything. Just kissing and hugging and stuff".

"Not know what age of consent mean, and only know Law of Jungle", Bollo said moodily. "But wrong for Harold to be with precious Vince. Vince is lovely like delicate flower, should be with someone beautiful like model or rock star, not Harold".

"Well, Howard is a jazz star. He's been in _Time Out"_ , said Vince. "And he's very handsome".

"I dunno, I'm still picking up a major bumming vibe", said Naboo, toking on his hookah.

"I got a bad feeling about this", growled Bollo ominously.

"Anyone else feel like adding their two euros worth?", said Howard crossly. "Like to put in any objections to me and Vince discreetly going out together?".

"Don't bother me", said Naboo. "On Xooberon, we start shagging whenever we want".

"Doesn't anyone care about age at _all_?", asked a scandalised Howard.

"Not really", said Naboo. "I mean, what with people using The Fountain of Youth to look younger, and others using aging potions to look older, and shamans from the Fourth Dimension growing up backwards so they look eight when they're actually centuries old, it's too difficult to actually know how old anyone really is, or what age even means. You see, Time is an illusion".

"How old are you?", Vince asked Naboo.

"I'm four hundred and six", said Naboo carelessly. "You get well bored with shagging by my age".

"Wow, you look about twelve", marvelled Vince. "And what's Zoo Buh-Ron?".

"That's my home planet", said Naboo.

"Oh wow, you're from another planet, like Ziggy Stardust", said Vince excitedly. "You're a starman, waiting in the sky, and you want to come and meet us, but you think you'll blow our minds".

"You're into Bowie? That's cool", said Naboo. "You should check out Rudi & Spider, really amazing rock duo I've known since the 1970s. I can lend you their album _Bongo in the Congo_ if you want; it's a good one for beginners".

"Look, can the _NME_ staff meeting come to a bloody halt?", said Howard, feeling that everything had got completely out of hand.

"Sorry Vince, Howard gets like this lot", Naboo said. "He can really bring the mood down".

"I think we should stick to the topic under discussion", said Howard pompously. "To sum up. Naboo will talk to the Shaman Council and report back on their advice. I will go on nightly patrols, and report back any suspicious activity. Vince, you will talk to Bryan and report back anything of interest he says. Bollo, you will stay indoors at night, and only leave the flat if accompanied by Naboo".

Everyone made noises of agreement, except Bollo, who was sulking, and hated Howard for being his precious Vince's secret boyfriend.

"I have to take Vince back to his boarding house now", announced Howard. "We'll stay in contact, and possibly meet up later".

"Yeah cheers, Howard", said Naboo. "Thanks for coming over, I knew I could count on you. And nice meeting you, Vince".

"It was amazing to meet you", said Vince. "And Bollo – can't believe we caught up again. And it's all thanks to Howard".

Bollo cuddled Vince goodbye, ignoring this obvious ploy to make him say something nice about Howard.

********************************************************

"Hey, your friends are brilliant, Howard", Vince said enthusiastically as they started walking back the way they had come.

"We'll talk once we're in the van", said Howard tersely. "I'll take you straight home".

Once seated in the van, Howard took off with less than his usual care. Vince wondered if he was in a bad mood for some reason.

"Vince, I thought we agreed to keep our relationship a secret until you turn eighteen", said Howard, looking straight ahead.

"Well, yeah ... but it's okay to tell _friends_ , isn't it?", said Vince. "Old friends you can trust. Naboo saved your life – you can't keep secrets from him. And I've known Bollo since I was a kid".

"He didn't exactly react well to the news, did he?".

"Not really. I had no idea he was going to get so protective of me – I mean, we spent one summer together, nine years ago! He was a bit over the top about it".

"So you really did grow up in a forest. And your babysitter wasn't an old woman named Julie, but a leopard named Jahooli". Howard seemed a bit cross even about that.

"I did try to tell you, Howard. I told you it was real, not imaginary. And after you kept mishearing Jahooli's name, I thought you must not be ready to accept it or something so I didn't push it".

"And your foster-father Bryan is actually the Lord of the Forest", went on Howard.

"Yeah, he found me in the forest when I was a toddler, and cared for me", said Vince. "I don't usually tell people that straight away, because it sounds as if you're showing off when you say you were raised by the Lord of the Forest. You know, like trying to make yourself sound posher than you really are".

"I'm still struggling to get my head around the fact that my boyfriend is the Retro Mowgli! It's too unbelievable".

"Oh,  _I'm_ unbelievable? What about you, Mister My-best-friend-is-an-alien? You kept that one quiet. You made it sound as if he was just a zookeeper from New Zealand".

"I did say he was from further away than New Zealand. And he wasn't a zookeeper – he ran a shaman kiosk at the zoo, and was the zoo psychiatrist. And Naboo's not my best friend: he just saved my life, so I'm pretty much in his debt forever. And he lives in the same street, so of course we've kept in touch".

"How did Bollo become Naboo's familiar?", Vince asked.

"Bollo was one of the animals at the zoo", Howard replied. "We both knew him very well, and when the zoo closed, he went with Naboo. Naboo saved his life too".

"Blimey, were you always in so much danger that Naboo had to save everyone's life?", asked Vince.

"Oh, well – zoos are sort of high risk environments, aren't they?", said Howard awkwardly.

Vince remembered Tommy, and how nobody had saved him, and was quiet.

"Vince, I didn't want to get in an argument with you after ... after everything that happened today", said Howard. "I'm just worried that if you keep telling people about us, someone is going to find out, and get me into a lot of trouble. That makes me scared, and sometimes when I'm scared I get angry".

"I know, Howard", said Vince contritely, putting his hand on Howard's thigh. "I'll be more careful. I really do trust Naboo and Bollo though – Naboo seems totally relaxed about it, and Bollo loves me".

"He hates _me_ now though", said Howard.

"Bollo knows I'd never speak to him again if he let anything happen to you", Vince said. "And I'm not sure most people would take the word of a gorilla very seriously".

"Hope you're right", said Howard, pulling up around the corner from the boarding house. He leaned over and gave Vince a soft kiss on the lips. Another risk, but nobody was in sight, and he couldn't bear to say goodbye without a kiss. Vince's lips tasted so delicious. They do say forbidden fruit is always the sweetest.

"Vince, I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?", asked Howard.

"Oh Howard, I'd love to – except. My half-term report wasn't that good, and Bryan said I had to work harder at school. And I've got homework due".

"Just dinner, nothing else. I'd pick you up after school, we'd have an early dinner, and I'd get you back to the boarding house straight away".

"You'd really want to do that?", asked Vince. "Just have dinner with me for an hour?".

"Of course", said Howard. "I want to spend time with you. I don't want you to think I only want to see you for ... that's not what it's about".

"Okay", said Vince. He pressed his face against Howard's neck, kissing softly.

"Pick you up at five then. Don't be late".


	11. Someone You Really Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Vince's dating life continues. Contains discussion of non-con events; T-rated, but may be triggering or controversial? Staggeringly huge thanks to blackmountainbones, Smut Guru extraordinaire, who was kind enough to beta part of this chapter. The words "monkey genius" get tossed around very lightly, but in this case no others can apply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always should be someone you really love
> 
> Girls & Boys – Blur 
> 
> Me and Noel ... once .... pitched this really ludicrous idea about us driving around in a haunted car, and they just stared at us. ~ Julian Barratt

Vince tapped quietly on the shut door of his own room before walking in. Leroy was lying on his bed, reading a book called _High Fidelity_.

"Hi, Leroy. I'm back", Vince said.

"Hey", said Leroy, not looking up.

"What did you get up to today?".

"Went to a Remembrance Sunday church service with Gran, then had lunch with her".

"How's your gran going?".

"Alright".

"I stayed with a friend", said Vince. "Like I said on the phone this morning".

Leroy finally looked up. "You mean Howard?".

"Yeah, it was Howard".

"And I suppose Howard just happened to be driving past at a time when you just happened to go outside for some fresh air?", asked Leroy waspishly.

"No, I called him from the phone box and asked him to come and get me", Vince said steadily.

"Vince, can I just ask one question?", Leroy said.

"Yeah".

"What the _fuck_ is going on with you?", Leroy demanded, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "In fact, what the fuck is _wrong_ with you?".

Leroy had never shouted at Vince before, had never been seriously angry with him. Vince couldn't even recall him ever swearing at Vince.

"I don't think anything's wrong with me. I hadn't seen Howard for three weeks, and I felt like spending time with him".

"Right in the middle of hanging out with other friends. Right as a girl is trying to get off with you. And you don't say anything to us except that you need to take a piss. And then you disappear, and I don't hear from you until the next morning!".

"I wasn't thinking straight; I'd been drinking, and I was worked up. I just really wanted to see Howard. I didn't mean to be rude to everyone else, but I suppose I was. Sorry".

"You really wanted to see Howard and stay the night with him, even though he's just a friend?".

"No, he's more than a friend", said Vince quietly.

"Since when?", asked Leroy.

"We sort of said something a few weeks ago, but then we didn't see each other again until last night, so it was a bit up in the air".

"And all this time you've been lying to me, saying you didn't think of Howard that way?", said Leroy.

"It felt too new to say anything ... It's private ... You didn't tell me everything about Clare".

"I told you enough. You knew I liked her. You knew I was seeing her".

"And ... we can't really tell people", said Vince. "You know, because of my age. Howard could get into a lot of trouble for it".

"So you didn't _trust_ me?", said Leroy in a hurt tone. "What, you thought I was going to blab it all over college? Report Howard to the police? Tell the boarding house about it? Get a gang of yobs to gay bash both of you? What was I going to do Vince, that would ruin everything if I knew the truth?".

"I'm sorry, Leroy", said Vince. "But you didn't really seem to approve of Howard. You said he was too old for me".

"That's because I thought he was about forty! I thought he was some middle-aged creep, probably married, picking up schoolboys on the side. But you said he's only twenty-seven, and that's still a bit old ... but if he's your boyfriend ... and you like him ... I mean, what exactly do you together?".

"We're not having sex", said Vince. "Howard says we can't, because I'm too young. We ... kiss and cuddle. And ... I dunno ... what did they call it in Health Class? Petting. You know, they were always saying how we didn't need to rush into sex, there were plenty of other things to do".

"Yeah, you know, I don't really get this", admitted Leroy. "You like girls as well, and if you're too young to be with a bloke properly yet, why don't you just stick with girls until you turn eighteen? You know, Delia fancies you, and she's cool. I don't understand why you'd turn her down".

"Is Delia the girl from last night? Yeah, she seems like a laugh, and she's a really good-looking bird. If I hadn't met Howard first, I would definitely be interested in her. But ... I did meet Howard first".

"The thing is ... Delia is friends with Clare, and they share a flat", said Leroy. "I mean, I thought ... it would be really great if I could go out with Clare, and you with Delia. We could all hang out together. You could have a proper relationship without being worried about what might happen".

"Yeah, I couldn't use Delia that way", said Vince. "Wouldn't be right, keeping her as a stop-gap until I'm old enough to be with Howard, just because it's more convenient. She's too nice for that, and she seems too smart to put up with it and all".

Leroy sighed. "I suppose you're right. So what's going on with you and Howard?".

"This morning he had to go a rehearsal so I hung around the flat until he got back. We went shopping, and I met a couple of Howard's friends. Actually, I already knew one of them from years ago. Anyway, they're great. And tomorrow night he's taking me out to dinner".

"On a school night?", said Leroy with a frown. "And when are we going to practice our glam-folk act if you keep seeing Howard every day?".

"It's just an early dinner, and I'll be straight back", promised Vince. "I'll do homework same as usual, and we can practice after that, or at lunchtime, or tonight".

"Oh, alright then", said Leroy. "Do you want to come to dinner now?".

"Yeah okay", smiled Vince. "Hope it's not shepherd's pie again".

"Nah, it's Sunday. Roast beef, and chocolate sponge for pudding". Leroy could always be counted on to know what was on the menu.

As they went to the dining room, already echoing with voices, the clink of cutlery, and water being poured from jugs into glasses, Vince took his photos out of his pocket and looked at them. He'd only just said goodbye to Howard, and already couldn't wait until he saw him again.

*********************************************************

"Twelve minutes late. Excuse?", said Howard with a smile, leaning against the van as Vince approached him in the cold November evening.

"I couldn't remember whether paper cups really existed, or I just imagined them, so I had to go to the library to look it up", said Vince.

"And do they really exist?", asked Howard, hugging Vince close.

"Yeah, they do! They even had them at the library near the water cooler", said Vince, putting his head on Howard's shoulder, and wrapping his arms around his waist. 

"I like what you're wearing", said Howard, as he lifted Vince into the van. Vince had on skin-tight white flares, a red tee-shirt, his green jacket, and high-heeled black boots.

"We've got the same colours", Vince pointed out. Howard was wearing dark green corduroy trousers, a white button-up shirt, and a dark red cardigan.

"It's quite a coincidence", said Howard, pulling away from the kerb. "Especially as I picked these colours as a hint as to what we'll be eating".

"Um ... tomatoes, spinach, and ... vanilla ice cream?", guessed Vince.

"No, think flags", said Howard.

"I know! Italian!", said Vince triumphantly. "The flag was on the box when we got pizza".

"Good guess", said Howard approvingly. "But wrong".

"Then I'm out of flags", said Vince.

"Come on, Vince – one of the flags of the UK is red, white and green!".

"What, we're going to a _Welsh_ restaurant?".

"No ... and not a Lebanese one either", teased Howard.

"Sorry, I don't know any more flags", said Vince, putting his hand on Howard's thigh. "I'm pretty stupid at things like that".

Howard held the steering wheel with one hand so he could hold Vince's hand with the other, gently playing with his fingers as if he didn't care how much Vince knew about flags. It was almost as if Vince's knowledge of flags didn't factor at all in how much he liked Vince. Perfectly shocking for the son of a Geography teacher, but there you go.

When they got to Stoke Newington they could park on the street this time, as there weren't that many people wanting dinner out at five-thirty pm on a Monday. With few people around, Howard leaned over and gave Vince a quick kiss, his lips brushing against him.

"Come on, give me a hint where we're going", said Vince, as he slid out of the van.

"Okay, here's a really big hint", said Howard, as he picked two large woollen items from the back seat, and tossed one over to Vince.

Vince shook his out, and then said, "Hey it's a poncho!". He pulled it over his head, as Howard did the same.

"You're joking – we're having Mexican food?", asked Vince excitedly.

"Yep. I can't take you to Mexico yet, but I can take you to a Mexican restaurant", said Howard. "And we'll wear ponchos, to test your theory that you can't feel sad wearing one".

"I feel happier already", grinned Vince, following Howard to a restaurant called La Cantina. Sure enough, it had a Mexican flag over the door that was red, white and green.

Howard steered Vince into the restaurant, with a hand on the small of his back that felt protective.

"This will be easy for you, because you probably speak Spanish after being in Spain a long time", Vince said in a low voice.

"I can speak Castellano fairly well, but I'm more confident in Catalan", replied Howard. "But I'm pretty sure we won't need to speak anything other than English here".

Vince looked around. The restaurant was small and cosy, painted in warm bright colours, with dark wooden tables and curved booths to sit in. The low-hanging lights felt intimate and relaxing at the same time. There was hardly anybody else seated yet – a West Indian family with two young children, and a couple who looked like they might be students.

A handsome dark-haired waitress a decade or so older than Howard came over, greeting them with a politely smiling " _Hola amigos_ ", before descending into amused laughter at their matching ponchos. She showed them to their booth, still chuckling, handing them bright yellow menus.

"Anything to drink, gentlemen?".

"Would you like a glass of wine, Vince?", asked Howard.

"No, thanks. I shouldn't really drink", Vince replied, thinking of his homework ahead.

"My friend can't have any alcohol – he has to work later. Can you recommend anything?", Howard asked the waitress.

"What about a Mockarita – that's a non-alcoholic Margarita?", the waitress suggested.

"Sounds perfect", said Howard. "I'll have a Corona".

"What work do you do?", the waitress asked Vince.

"I'm an artist", said Vince, "and I like to keep my head clear while I'm working".

The waitress looked rather impressed as she took down the rest of their order, before leaving.

"Still feeling happy?", Howard asked with a smile.

"Never better", replied Vince.

He reflected that what was chiefly making him happy was that Howard's legs were so long that they were pressed up against his own under the table. He could feel the warmth coming from Howard's body, and smell the delicious spicy aroma that wasn't soap or cologne, but just Howard's natural scent. It made Vince feel slightly lightheaded, wanting to get closer and closer to Howard.

"So, have you gone on patrol yet?", he asked, trying to distract himself.

"Yes, I went last night. Nothing unusual, although it feels hopeless doing it by myself for just an hour or so", said Howard. "I've reported back to Naboo though".

"I could come with you", suggested Vince. "Another pair of eyes".

"Absolutely not", said Howard firmly. "You've got your education to consider. Imagine what Bryan would say if you told him you'd failed because you'd been hanging around the East End in a van with me every night".

"Bryan knows about you, by the way", Vince said.

"What? You told Bryan about me?", said Howard, sounding concerned. "Was that wise?".

"I didn't tell him. He just knew that I was in love", replied Vince. "He said foster-fathers can always tell, and my face gave it away".

"Oh, I see. Does he know ... it's with a man?".

"No, he didn't ask any questions", Vince said. "He said it was pointless knowing all about you, because it would be impossible to change my mind anyway".

Howard looked only slightly relieved, but before he could say anything else, the waitress arrived with their order and their drinks. They shared a plate of nachos, Vince taking a sip of his Mockarita and assuring Howard it was delicious, like a frozen lemonade.

"This green stuff is really good", Vince commented, scooping some of it onto a handful of nachos.

"It's guacamole", said Howard. "Made from avocado".

"Bryan would love this", said Vince. "He likes green food".

When they started eating their tortillas, Vince took a bite from his, and returned to the earlier subject with, "So if I didn't have to worry about my education, you'd be fine with me going on patrol with you?".

"Of course", said Howard, eating a tortilla filled with chicken breast in _mole_ sauce. "It would be great. I'd love us to travel around in the van together, solving crimes and mysteries".

"Yeah, we'd be like the guys from _Scooby-Doo_ , but there'd be only two of us. And it would turn out the van was haunted".

"Haunted by the feeling it had forgotten something important", said Howard with a twitch of his moustache.

Vince giggled. "Let's do it in my gap year – where should we go?".

"Start in France, then see where the road takes us", suggested Howard.

"Howard, what's in my tortilla?", asked Vince, stopping to open it and have a look.

"Fried plantain", answered Howard. "It's like banana, but not as sweet".

"Wow, this is genius – I'm eating banana with beans, cheese sauce, and sour cream! What's in yours?".

"Chicken in chili and chocolate sauce", replied Howard. "It's fantastic".

"I love Mexico! You can have banana and chocolate for your mains! Can we go to Mexico?".

"Let's save that for after you finish university".

Vince was still inwardly swooning over the fact that Howard had casually referred to them still being together in _four year's time_ , when he realised that someone had their hands around his ankle. Rather damp, sticky little hands. He looked down, and saw that one of the small children dining with their parents was lying at his feet, unsteadily holding his ankle.

"Hey, what you doing down there, nipper?", said Vince with a smile.

"Pwitty lady", said the kid, with a rather charming smile of his own.

The child's mother dashed up, trying to remove the child, who began wailing, "No, want pwitty lady!".

"I'm sorry to trouble you, miss", the mother began, before she looked at Vince properly, and became deeply embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry ... Rudi got confused ... he's only four!".

"Don't worry about it", grinned Vince. "I'll take compliments from wherever".

"Thank you for being so understanding", said the mother stiffly, looking as if she was trying not to snatch her son away from Vince, who might have been pretty, but was no lady.

The family left soon after this incident, and Vince felt a bit guilty that it looked as if they had cut their evening short because of him. Howard said they should make tracks themselves, when the waitress came over, all smiles, with a plate of churros in chocolate sauce and vanilla ice cream.

"I'm afraid we didn't order this", Howard told her.

"It is a gift from the family who just left – they wanted to make it up to you that their child inconvenienced you", she explained.

"Quite a little scam you're running", said Howard, breaking off a piece of churro and eating it. He put on the voice of an elderly military man which was straight out of _The Goon Show_ : _Why madam, will you have this dance ... I'm so sorry, sir; here, have five euros as a token of my deepest apologies for offending your manhood_ ".

Vince gave an unwilling chuckle as he spooned ice cream into his mouth.

"Things like that will happen from time to time", Howard said, his voice now serious. "Don't let it worry you, okay?".

"How can I be worried when I'm wearing a poncho?", grinned Vince. "And I was right – we _did_ have red food, green food, and vanilla ice cream!".

When they got back to the boarding house, Howard parked in a narrow laneway across the road where there were no windows or streetlights. He leaned over and kissed Vince, holding him close with one arm, his mouth hard and hungry against Vince's, until Vince was hot and breathless.

"I've been wanting to do that all through dinner", Howard said. He pulled Vince into his lap, and kissed him again; Vince could feel how hard Howard was beneath him.

"I like the effect Mexican food has on you", Vince whispered in his ear.

"It's not the food, you little titbox – it's you", groaned Howard.

"I wish I was going home with you", Vince said. "Back to your bed".

"Me too, but we have to learn to control ourselves", sighed Howard, releasing Vince and gently pushing him off his lap.

Vince started taking his poncho off, but Howard said, "Keep it, it suits you". Vince pressed his face into Howard's neck, and then took one more kiss goodnight for luck.

He raced into the boarding house with a raging stiffy under his poncho, and some leftover nachos and rice for Leroy, wrapped in aluminium foil. There was just time for a quick shower before he started studying.

***************************************************

 _From:spacebetweenthenotes@jazzmail.com_  
_Sent: Tue 14/11/95 8.16 am_  
_Subject: You might like this idea?_

 _Dear Vince,_  
_I hope you enjoyed dinner last night, and that I got you home in plenty of time to complete your homework. Your education is very important to me, and I never want to disrupt your studies in any way._

_I was wondering if you would care to come over tomorrow night? Nothing special – we'd just grab something for dinner and hang out together. I'd bring you back at a reasonable hour._

_Also, please find attached my recipe for guacamole, which you might like to share with your foster-father Bryan. I remember you saying last night that you thought he would enjoy it._

_Warmest regards,_

_Uncle Boris_

_PS How is the poncho?_

_From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Tue 14/11/95 10.37 am_  
_Subject: RE: You might like this idea?_

_yeh dinner was genius thnx so much. would luv 2 cum over but have h/work to do. sry! another time? i really do want 2. want 2 a lot. so so much. :( luv vince xxx ps the poncho is amazing & thnx 4 the recipe_

_From:spacebetweenthenotes@jazzmail.com_  
_Sent: Tue 14/11/95 11:49 am_  
_Subject: RE: RE: You might like this idea?_

_Dear Vince,_

_Your dedication to your schoolwork is commendable. I know you are determined to bring home a better report card at the end of the term!_

_However, you are quite welcome to bring your homework with you if you decided to visit. We could have an early dinner together, then you could do your homework here._

_You are free to use my desk and computer, if you would like to. I could help you with Maths and English, but as you know, my knowledge of Art is of that broad and rather useless variety of "knowing what I like when I see it"._

_But if it isn't possible, then don't worry about it. We will see each other very soon in any case._

_Love_

_Uncle Boris_

_From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Tue 14/11/95 4:11 pm_  
_Subject: RE: RE: RE: You might like this idea?_

_yeh ok genius thnx. luv vince xxx_

_From:spacebetweenthenotes@jazzmail.com_  
_Sent: Tue 14/11/95 6.05 pm_  
_Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: You might like this idea?_

_Dear Vince,_

_Excellent! Pick you up at 4.30 pm. Don't be late._

_Love,_

_Uncle Boris_

_From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Wed 15/11/95 8.18 am_  
_Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: You might like this idea?_

_ok thnx. cya soon. luv vince xxx_

*******************************************************

To save time, Vince didn't even get changed after school, but just made sure he had everything he needed to do his homework, including a stack of books he'd checked out from the library. He ran outside, to find Howard leaning against the van, a look of warm approval on his face.

"You're exactly on time", Howard announced. "What's your secret?".

"I didn't get changed or do my hair or anything", Vince complained.

"You can do all that at the flat if you want", Howard reminded him. "And you look nice anyway".

Vince grinned as he got into the van; he didn't need to get lifted today, his jeans weren't that tight. Howard got into the driver's side, giving Vince a quick smile as he started up the van and drove off.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Howard?", Vince asked.

"No, it's just me", Howard replied.

"So what family do you have?".

"Mum and Dad live in Leeds, and Nana and Grandpa live in Wakefield. They're Dad's parents".

"Do your parents know about me?", Vince asked curiously.

Howard looked uncomfortable.

"They don't, Vince. It's because you're still at school. Mum and Dad are teachers, and they would have major problems with me going out with a school student, especially one that's underage – they wouldn't approve of me doing that at all. But I promise as soon as you're eighteen and have left school, you can meet them, and they'll love you".

"Did they know Tommy was your boyfriend?".

"No, because in that case it was me who was underage, and Tommy was older than they were, and my boss", explained Howard. "They would have seen Tommy as taking advantage of their son, and they might have reported him, believing they were protecting me from harm. But Tommy never took advantage of me, Vince – the relationship was entirely mutual, and I wanted to be with him".

"Do your mum and dad know you like blokes?", asked Vince.

"Well, we've never had an official conversation about it", said Howard thoughtfully, "but I get the idea they might know".

"Why's that?".

"They never ask if I've got a girlfriend – they always ask if I'm seeing anybody special. And whenever weddings or babies come up in the conversation, they never say anything about me getting married or becoming a father. And if I ever mention a male friend, they get this look like they're waiting to hear he's really my boyfriend, except they always have been just friends".

"You know, you should probably have that official conversation anyway", suggested Vince. "Just to make sure".

"You're probably right", sighed Howard. "I'll talk to them and prepare them a bit before they meet you".

When they got to the flat, Howard told Vince he could start his homework straight away if he wanted to, while Howard made dinner. He switched on the computer for Vince, cleared the desk for him, and told him not to worry about making a mess while he was working. Vince spread his books out, but made sure to sneak off to the bathroom and make himself presentable for dinner. No need to look like a slob for his boyfriend, even if all he was doing was homework.

Dinner in the warm kitchen was a simple Thai-style prawn and egg stir fry with rice noodles, which Vince praised abundantly, but Howard told him wasn't authentic at all, and just something he made when he couldn't be bothered cooking properly. Over dinner, Howard chatted to Vince, asking about school, homework, the bakery, Bryan, and the forest. He told Vince he would do the dishes while Vince got back to work, putting a hand on his lower back in farewell as Vince left.

Everything was so easy with Howard, Vince thought to himself. Easy smiles, easy conversation, easy laughter. And possibly, easy to see now when Howard was taking a little perv at him: he had noticed him glancing at Vince during dinner, then looking away, his hand gripping the edge of the table.

After a while, Howard tapped on the living room door, and asked Vince if he minded Howard being there just to read quietly. He said if it was distracting, he could easily read in the kitchen or the bedroom instead, but Vince smiled and said it would be fine. It was nice, working at the computer while Howard sat on the sofa, reading a thick heavy book with a plain brown cover. It didn't even look like the kind of book you would read for pleasure, more something you might dip into as a reference work, but Howard was apparently reading it cover to cover, like a novel. Vince wondered if Howard might have some sort of medical condition that made him immune to boredom.

Vince had been working for hours when a voice buzzed into the room.

_Come in, Big Bebopper; do you read me? I repeat, Big Bebopper, do you read me? Over._

Vince looked instinctively at the television, but Howard had picked up a walkie-talkie handset and spoke into it.

"That's a big ten-four, Magic Man. Over".

_Did you go on patrol last night? Over._

"Affirmative. Nothing to report. Over".

_Because there was another disappearance in the East End last night, you ballbag. Over._

"Dammit! He's always two steps ahead of us! Over".

_Why do you assume it's a he? Crime knows no gender, Big Bebopper. Over._

"Oh, come on. Out of all the villains we've had to sort out, how many of them were female? Over".

_Two. Over._

"Yeah well, they were probably men in dresses. Over".

_Is Jungle Boy there? Over._

"Jungle Boy has ears. Over".

_Has he anything to report? Over._

"Negatory, Magic Man. Will report later. Over".

_Is he there so you can give him a bumming? Over._

"Negatory. And you can cut that out, you spoon. Over".

_Just joking. Over._

"It is an offence against the Walkie-Talkie Code to use the airwaves for jokes or pranks of any kind, Magic Man. Over".

_Oh get over yourself, Big Bebopper, you ballbag. Over._

"Is King Kong complying with safety protocols? Over".

_Affirmative. Can confirm safety of King Kong, and he's in a right mood about it. Over._

"Anything else? Over".

_Keep up the patrols. Keep eyes and ears open. Over and out._

"Wilco. Roger, over and out".

Howard put his head in his hands, and sat hunched over on the sofa in despair. Vince came over and put an arm around him.

"This isn't your fault, Howard".

"I promised to help protect the familiars, and I've done nothing, Vince! One was taken last night, despite me being on patrol. This is literally happening on my watch".

"All you promised to do was go on patrol every night, which you've done", comforted Vince, stroking Howard's hair.

"I'm not doing enough!".

"Why are the shamans even allowing their familiars into the East End at night, knowing about these disappearances? Aren't they a bit responsible as well?", Vince argued.

"Shamans can be arrogant", admitted Howard. "They think they know everything, and that makes them careless, even reckless".

"Well, there you go", said Vince, kissing Howard's ear. "That's not your fault".

Howard suddenly turned, and cupped Vince's face between his hands, kissing his mouth again and again until Vince was full of the taste of Howard. He could tell Howard had brushed his teeth after dinner, as if knowing he would soon be kissing Vince, and that made Vince excited. That he'd planned for this. Been wanting it for hours, but waited.

One of Howard's hands was buried in the back of Vince's hair, while the other gently stroked Vince's thighs. Vince felt an unaccountable panic rising as Howard's big hands slowly caressed his inner thighs, even through jeans. He stiffened, unable to explain it.

"What's wrong, little man?", Howard asked, his eyes wrinkling anxiously as he stopped touching Vince. "I'm not hurting you, am I? I'm trying to be so gentle with you".

Vince shook his head. "It happened before", he admitted. "You touched me really quickly between my legs, and I felt sort of funny inside, but it only lasted a second. Now it's just going on and on. I know that sounds mental".

"No, it doesn’t. Am I going too fast for you? Is this really what you want?", Howard asked in a worried voice. 

"Yes, I really, _really_ want it", said Vince in frustration. "It's like something at the back of my mind".

"Vince, has anyone ever touched you ... without asking, with you not wanting that?", asked Howard gently.

Vince tried to think. A flash of memory rose from his subconscious, and he shivered uncomfortably. "Howard, when those men took me outside, from the bar, they might have done something. I was too drunk to really know about it, but I can kind of still remember it".

Howard looked sick. "What can you remember, Vince?".

"I think they told me that I needed to go outside for some fresh air, and then the next thing I remember the bar seemed like a long way away. I could hardly hear the music any more, and I couldn't hear any girls' voices. And then ...". He paused.

"Then what?", asked Howard, his face pale.

"They didn't know if I was a boy or a girl", said Vince reluctantly. "One of them put his hand between my legs to ... to feel what I was".

"I wish I'd been able to catch them", said Howard, his voice full of  anguished rage. "Catch at least one of them. Another time when I wasn't able to protect someone. Left them to suffer".

"Don't be a berk, you saved me Howard!", objected Vince. "You swooped in like a ... a falcon or ... an avenging bear, and you scared them off. And then you took me home and cared for me".   

He went to kiss Howard’s lips, but Howard turned his face a little so the kiss landed on his chin.

"And Howard ... the one who touched me, he said ... said that I liked it, and I was dirty, and he laughed. Because ... 'cause I was hard", said Vince shamefacedly.

"That's not true", Howard said quietly. "You got hard because you were frightened, that's all. A response to fear. You didn't want him to touch you, you didn't like it, you didn't ask for it. He had no right to lay a hand on you. Do you understand me, Vince?".

Vince nodded. 

"Vince, what do you want now?", asked Howard gently. "Do you want me to hold you, do you want to talk about it, or sit here quietly? Do you want me to take you home?".

“I don’t want to go home yet, not feeling like this”, said Vince. “Can we sit here for a bit?”.

“Whatever you want to do, Vince”, said Howard, putting his arms around Vince and drawing him towards him. 

Vince put his head on Howard’s chest, and felt the comfort of listening to Howard’s heartbeat, steady and familiar. Howard ran his fingers through Vince’s hair, and kissed him on the top of the head. Vince snuggled in closer, lifting his face; Howard’s lips grazed his cheekbone, and down his jaw, before tenderly kissing his mouth. 

“We can just kiss and cuddle if you like”, Howard said. “We don’t have to do anything else until you’re ready”.

“What if I’m ready now?”, said Vince, looking up at Howard expectantly. 

“Vince, I’m not sure that’s a good idea”, Howard said. “You don’t have to rush into anything”.        

"Howard, I don't want ... I don't want .... _him_ … to be the last person to touch me", said Vince. "I want new memories, good ones this time. I don't want to feel bad every time you touch me. Can we go back to what we were doing, please?".

"Well … if you’re sure", Howard agreed. "But we'll go slowly, and keep telling me when it's okay, and when I need to stop".

"Alright, Howard", said Vince, leaning in closer, as if inviting Howard’s touch.

Hesitantly, Howard caressed Vince’s hipbone, and as Vince squirmed in pleasure, he teased his way up Vince’s thigh with more confidence.  

 "You were stroking between my legs. I mean, before", said Vince quietly.

Howard went back to doing that, slowly, and looking at Vince to see how he was. His thumbs curled between Vince's thighs, his fingertips touching the curve of Vince's bum. Vince could feel his heart beating faster as the panic rose, and took a deep breath to control it. He clutched Howard's hair as if for support, twining his fingers into the soft brown curls. 

"Can I kiss you under your clothes, Vince?", asked Howard, waiting to hear Vince's whining, panted _Yes_ before lifting Vince's shirt. 

He pressed a kiss to Vince’s belly, making Vince squirm. Howard’s lips were warm and dry as they left a trail of hot, breathy kisses down Vince’s  stomach, until he reached the waistband of Vince’s jeans. Waiting for a reaction from Vince, who eagerly thrust his hips forward, he then pushed down the waistband of Vince’s jeans, exposing the elastic of his pants to kiss the spot where Vince’s small, soft tummy disappeared into the fabric. 

Howard raised his head to look at Vince's face, and said with a crooked little smile, "You went to the bathroom and made yourself look pretty for dinner. I love the way you make yourself beautiful for me".

"Not just for you", protested Vince, but deep down, he knew it was mostly for Howard. 

Howard's fingers stroked up and down Vince's torso, around his slender waist, along his spine, on his lower ribs.

"You're so little", he groaned, just one of his hands completely covering Vince's stomach. "I wish I didn't love that so much about you. It turns me on how fragile you are".

"Not really that delicate", Vince breathed, wriggling to push Howard’s hand down between his legs. "I like how big you are. I wanked off this morning just thinking about your huge hands, imagining them all over me".

Howard let out a noise as he leaned down to kiss Vince's stomach again; hotter, wetter, harder than before, leaving a mark behind. He tugged down the side of Vince's jeans so he could leave another love bite on his hip with a sharp little suck that made Vince twitch. 

"Please, Howard", Vince whined, wanting more, anything more.

Howard pulled Vince into his lap, and kissed him hard, biting a little at Vince’s underlip. Vince squirmed against Howard’s hard cock with a little gasp at how big it felt, how solid . 

One of Howard’s large hands squeezed the cheek of Vince’s arse, then hesitated. "Can I touch you between the thighs again?", asked Howard hopefully. 

"M'yes", moaned Vince, rubbing himself against Howard’s cock. 

"You're so hard, Vince", Howard said, a break in his voice as if he was fighting to maintain control. 

"So are you", said Vince, rocking in Howard’s lap. His erection was hot and stiff against Vince’s bum. "Feel so thick and hard".

Howard’s palm brushed against Vince’s erection. "Is it okay if I keep doing this, Vince?", Howard asked as he kissed him again and again.

"Yeah don't stop", Vince panted, stiff and hard. He twisted himself around in his efforts to get off on Howard, and finally slipped down from his lap altogether to undo his own jeans and pull off his pants.

“You trying to get undressed, like before?”, asked Howard, kissing Vince

He gave Vince a softer kiss in encouragement, his own hands helping to pull down Vince's underwear, his thumb brushing against Vince's erection. Vince grabbed his own cock, trying to put it into Howard's hand.

"You sure, Vince?", asked Howard softly.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Please, Howard", begged Vince. Howard’s hand closed around him at last, and a jolt went through his body that made him whimper with relief as Howard began a firm, gentle stroking. Vince arched his hips, eager for more, as Howard kissed him on the face, down his neck, and along the line of his collarbone. 

"It's alright, sweetheart", Howard whispered, using Vince's own leaking precum to make his cock glistening and slippery. 

He pulled Vince back onto the safety of his lap, his hand moving in the same steady, slow rhythm, his thumb tracing around the wet, swollen head of Vince’s cock in a way that was sending Vince's brains right through the roof. 

"I'll take care of you, darling,'' Howard said. "Just come when you're ready". 

Vince thought he would come just from listening to Howard's deep creamy voice, the feel of his lips nuzzling against his neck, his hard cock just beneath Vince. 

The pleasure crested higher and higher until he came, all in a rush, calling out a confused jumble of _please_ and _yes_ and _Howard_ , while Howard held him tightly, urging out every drop of cum until Vince’s balls felt like they’d been turned inside out. 

Howard kissed him hungrily, then licked all traces of it from his hand and wrist where Vince had spilled onto it.

"You taste so good, little man", he groaned. "Like oysters and sea foam. I can't wait until ... I mean, I hope one day you'll want  to come in my mouth".

He cuddled Vince on his lap while Vince rested his head on Howard's shoulder, getting his breath back as Howard stroked his hair gently.

“Did you like that?”, Howard whispered in Vince’s ear.

“Mm yes, you know I did”, smiled Vince in return.

“You know I never want to hurt you or make you uncomfortable”, said Howard. “Promise me you’ll always tell me if something doesn’t feel right, even a little bit?”.

“”I promise”, said Vince, his lips against Howard’s neck. 

"Vince, did you finish your homework?", asked Howard, suddenly remembering what they were supposed to be doing.

"Yeah, I did Howard. I just need to print it out", Vince replied. "I got loads more done here that I would have at the boarding house, really".

"Good", said Howard. "I'll give you some clean pants to wear, and then we'll get your work printed. Then I'd better take you home. How does that sound?".

"Genius", said Vince, already sleepy.

"Go and get changed", said Howard. "I just need a minute to myself. Leave your pants with me".

“What are you going to do with them?”, grinned Vince. “Tell me exactly, or I won’t feel comfortable”.

Howard looked embarrassed, but mumbled, “Rub them all over my cock until I come”.

“So you’re going to wank into my pants and come all over them?”, asked Vince teasingly.

“Yes, you little titbox”, growled Howard, aware that he was being toyed with.

“Good. I like it when you’re dirty”, said Vince, dropping a quick kiss on Howard’s face as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do both versions of Rudi exist in this universe? Only string theory and mathematical quantum superposition can explain it. Rudi Van Der Saniel's youthful age is easier to understand – if Vince was born ten years later in this universe, why should Rudi not be born thirty years later? 
> 
> The big thick heavy book with a brown cover that Howard reads is the same one he reads in the episode "Charlie" – it's "Dead Souls" by Nikolai Gogol. It's such a door-stopper that Vince mistakes it for a reference work and marvels at Howard reading it like a novel.


	12. Mermaids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bryan gives Vince an important lead on the disappearing familiars, and Howard and Vince have an unexpected double date at the local pub, where Vince makes a surprising ally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no love made with mermaids  
> It's just distraction, so they say 
> 
> Coping – Blur 
> 
> I make an all right Bowie. Actually, I look more like Cilla Black. ~ Noel Fielding

After school, Vince walked down to the phone box, rattled the coins into the slot, and dialled the number for Howard's flat.

"Hello. Howard Moon speaking".

"Hi, Howard. It's me, Vince".

"Vince! Is everything okay? Did something happen? Do you need me to come and get you?", asked Howard in a panicked voice.

"No, everything's fine, Howard", Vince replied. "I just wanted to say, thanks for everything last night".

"Did you get your homework completed and handed in?".

"Bang on time. And everything ... everything that happened last night was amazing. Really".

"Oh ... well, that's great. I'm glad. I was worried ... I might have pushed you a little bit".

"No, you didn't. You were brilliant", Vince said. "But I was wondering Howard, if you'd like to come out with me on Saturday night?".

"Where did you have in mind?".

"To the local pub".

"What? You want me to go to a _pub_ with you? Why?", asked Howard, sounding concerned.

"Well, the third Saturday of the month is Folk Night".

"You're into folk music?", asked a surprised Howard.

"Not that much", said Vince. "But they're having an Open Mike Night, and me and my mate Leroy have got an act we wanted to perform. You interested?".

"Wouldn't miss it for the world", Howard assured him. "I'll come and pick you up".

"Can we take Leroy with us?", asked Vince.

"Of course. We can't let him walk around that area at night and go into pubs by himself", Howard said. "What time?".

"It starts at eight, so I guess come get us around quarter to?".

"I'll be there, out the front as usual", promised Howard.

"And Howard ... I can't really see you before then", Vince said apologetically. "Leroy and I have got rehearsals together, and Friday I want to get all my homework done before the weekend".

"That's okay", Howard said. "You've got your own life to live, I don't want to interfere with that. And I've got to do Bollo's deejaying gig on Friday night anyway, at the roller disco".

"Oh wow, I wish I didn't have homework. I would have loved to go to the roller disco".

"School comes first", said Howard severely.

"Yeah, I know", said Vince. "See you Saturday, then?".

"I'll be there. And Vince?".

"Yeah?".

"I can't wait to see you again".

"Same here".

******************************************************

After saying goodbye to Howard, Vince went back to the boarding house, where he and Leroy were going to rehearse in their room.

"Howard's picking us up on Saturday", Vince announced. "To take us to the pub. He'll meet us out the front of here around a quarter to eight".

"Oh, okay", said Leroy blankly.

"It means we'll have a bit of support while we're performing, too", said Vince.

"Great", said Leroy. "Have you sorted our costumes yet, Vince?".

"I think so", said Vince. "I thought we'd base our outfits on Simon and Garfunkel, since they're a folk duo like us. And one's got blond hair and one's got brown hair, like us. And one's got curly hair and one's got straighter hair, like us".

"Well, those things don't really match up", objected Leroy. "I mean, Garfunkel has curly blond hair, but mine's curly and yours is blond".

"We don't have to be _twins_ with them", said Vince. "It's just for inspiration. And I went with their _Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme_ album, because it's their most English and folky. So you'll be wearing this big white blouse, and I'm going to wear this really naff blue velour jumper. I got them both at Oxfam. And we'll wear our oldest and crummiest looking jeans".

He showed Leroy the clothes he'd chosen for them.

"A blouse?", Leroy said in horror. "I'll get beaten up!".

"I wear blouses all the time", soothed Vince.

"Yeah, but not ones like this with a massive great frill! I'll look like I'm dressed as a pirate or something!".

"Don't worry, that's only half the costume", explained Vince. "We'll also be wearing Ziggy Stardust make-up. See, glam make-up, folk clothes – glam-folk music".

"You want me to wear a blouse _and_ make-up?", said Leroy. "Cancel that. I won't get beaten up, I'll be killed".

"No way, we'll be with Howard", said Vince confidently. "He's big and strong, and he's a fighter – he used to box kangaroos. He's got tons of scars to prove it. He'll protect us".

"You've gone wrong, Vince", said Leroy despairingly.

"Trust me, once everything is put together, we''ll look great", said Vince. "I'm going to dye my hair red so I'll look even more like Ziggy".

"Like Cilla Black, you mean", scoffed Leroy. "And I can't dye my hair. I've got a red-headed girlfriend – she'll think I'm taking the mick if I go ginger".

"Have you put our names down for the Open Mike yet?", asked Vince. "And where are we in the line-up?".

"Yeah, I did", replied Leroy. "We're in the second half, towards the end".

"Brilliant, we'll have time to do our make-up in the interval", said Vince. "And don't worry – we'll take it off and get changed as soon as we've finished our act. You won't be roaming around Clapton wearing a pirate blouse and glam rock make-up".

Leroy was mollified by this, and the two of them began rehearsing. They would perform one song, and if they got enough applause, were permitted an encore. Vince was absolutely sure they would be performing two songs, while Leroy was equally convinced they would be booed off stage before they even finished one.

***************************************************

"Coming to breakfast, Vince?", Leroy asked on Saturday morning.

"No thanks, Leroy", Vince said. "I'm going to sit by the phone in the hallway. I'm expecting a call from Bryan, and I don't want to miss it".

Vince parked himself in the chair next to the phone, and waited. A few minutes later, Leroy ran over to him, telling him he'd got him a bacon sandwich and a cup of orange juice that he could have in the hallway.

"Thanks Leroy", said Vince gratefully. "You're a good little wifey". He blew Leroy a kiss.

"Get stuffed, I"m not your wife", said Leroy, giving Vince a playful slap on the thigh. From which exchange you could tell that rehearsals had been going very well.

When the phone eventually rang, Vince grabbed it after just one ring.

"Hello, is that you Bryan?".

"Vince my child, were you sitting on top of the phone to have answered it so swiftly?", asked Bryan.

"Yeah, pretty much. Didn't want to miss you", replied Vince.

"That is most gratifying, my child", said Bryan.

"How's the tour going, Bryan?", asked Vince, because Bryan had left on a solo tour of Europe after half-term.

"Oh you know, it is Saturday so this must be Belgium", joked Bryan. "Actually, Antwerp is quite pleasant. And what news from your own great city?".

"Um, do you remember Bollo?", said Vince. "I ran into him last week".

"My word, Bollo", marvelled Bryan. "The two of you were the best of friends for that one summer. I suppose you must have been ... eight, was it? And how _is_ Bollo, my child?".

"He's good", said Vince. "He was in a zoo for a while - ".

"A zoo! You mean an animal prison?", said Bryan in disgust.

"No, it was a really good zoo, sort of like an alternative zoo", said Vince. "With really caring zookeepers who loved animals".

"Hm, and what happened to this so-called 'good zoo'?", said Bryan disdainfully.

"It went out of business - ".

"Ha!".

"- and now it's a bypass", finished Vince.

"It must have been _quite_ exceptional", said Bryan silkily.

"Anyway, after that Bollo went to live with a shaman who worked at the zoo", said Vince. "He's the shaman's familiar, and in his spare time he deejays at a roller disco".

"Well, you are certainly meeting some interesting people", said Bryan. "And how wonderful you and Bollo were able to catch up together. You must keep in touch with him, my child".

"Yeah, I plan to", said Vince. "The only thing is, Bryan, Bollo told me something really worrying. It seems that a lot of shamans' familiars are going missing, just disappearing mysteriously. Have you ever heard of that happening to animals before?".

"No, surely not", said Bryan in a strangled voice. "Surely that curse, that great evil, could not be stalking the city of men as well?".

"What curse, Bryan?", said Vince excitedly. "What great evil?".

"Some call him Baboo Yagu", said Bryan solemnly. "Some say he is the devil, others that he is a man disguised as the devil. He is said to resemble a man witch, with green skin. A few say he is just a legend, but I say he is real – as real as the forest! As real as the city!".

"And what does this Bamboo Yahoo do, exactly?", asked Vince.

"It is not known for sure, only that wherever Baboo Yagu is seen, animals disappear. It is believed that he must be taking them, but for what purpose is a mystery", said Bryan, clearly shaken.

"So you think it might be the same thing happening here?".

"Perhaps, my child. Who can tell? But I think the shamans should beware, and keep a close watch on their familiars", said Bryan.

"Thanks Bryan, that's really helpful. I'll tell Bollo, and he can pass the word along to the other familiars", Vince said.

"Vince my child, do not try to take on Baboo Yagu yourself", said Bryan urgently. "He is too strong, too powerful".

"Don't worry Bryan, I'd never try to take on someone like that by myself", Vince assured him.

"I mean it, Vince", said Bryan. "Stay away from Baboo Yagu! Avoid him and his haunts at all costs. Do not go looking for the man-devil Baboo Yagu".

"Why would I go looking for him, Bryan?", asked Vince reasonably. "He sounds like a right villain. Anyway, I'd better get to work now".

"Farewell, my sweet child", said Bryan. "But promise me - ".

"See ya Bryan, can't be late and leave Mrs Andrews with no help", gabbled Vince, quickly hanging up before Bryan could make him promise anything.

He couldn't wait to see Howard now, so he could tell him that he might have a lead in the case of the disappearing familiars.

******************************************************

Vince and Leroy left the boarding house, both wearing long winter coats over their costumes, Vince carrying a huge bag with all their necessary make-up and change of clothes, and Leroy carrying his guitar. Even on a cold night, Howard was leaning on the van waiting for them, wearing a brown tweed vintage coat that looked thick and warm, and a tartan wool scarf. He raised a hand in greeting as they approached.

"Hi Howard, this is my mate Leroy", Vince said.

"Nice to see you again, Leroy", said Howard, shaking his hand. "I hope you got in safely after I brought you home that night?".

"Yeah I did, thanks Howard", said Leroy. "And thanks for taking care of Vince. Sorry we're a bit late".

"I'm pretty sure that's not _your_ fault, Leroy", said Howard with a little smile, lifting the heavy bag into the back of the van. "And you've got red hair now, Vince?".

"It's just a temporary dye", Vince said. "It will wash out in a week or so"

"That's okay, I quite like it", said Howard. "Would you like to sit in the back, Leroy, or in the front seat between me and Vince?".

"The back, please", said Leroy, climbing in next to the bag, and holding his guitar case.

On the short drive to The White Hart, Howard seemed to be doing everything he could to get along well with Vince's closest friend. He was succeeding – too well for Vince's liking, who began feeling rather jealous.

Howard knew quite a lot about folk music, and was impressed by Leroy's ambition to be a folk singer when he left school. Despite Leroy's disparaging remarks about jazz, he had a reasonable knowledge of it, and could talk intelligently to Howard on the subject: he knew who Miles Davis was, and also John Coltrane, who it turned out, Howard absolutely worshipped. Vince realised he had never even bothered finding out who Howard's favourite musician was.

"And of course, folk-jazz is a fascinating genre in itself", Howard was saying.

"Yeah, and like world music and that - ", responded Leroy enthusiastically.

"I have an album of pan pipe music from Latin America", Howard said. "I think you'd be really interested, if you wanted to borrow it".

"Yeah I would, thanks Howard", said Leroy, leaning over the back of the front seat.

Vince sulked. It wasn't just that they were bonding over stupid folk and jazz, Vince thought to himself. If Howard really did like teenage boys, then surely Leroy would appeal to him more than Vince. Leroy was, Vince thought miserably, _cuter_ than Vince, with his round face, curly hair, cherubic smile, and rosebud lips. Leroy didn't even need hair-styling or make-up to look good, the way Vince did. And Leroy had said that he wouldn't necessarily turn down interest from a man, if he was the right one ...

Vince put his hand possessively on Howard's thigh. Howard gave him a sharp look, and pushed his hand away.

"It's okay Howard, Leroy knows you're my boyfriend", said Vince.

"Oh for ... is there anyone you _haven't_ told?", said Howard in annoyance.

"Yeah the police, school, the boarding house, my foster-father", said Vince brattily.

"I already knew before Vince told me", Leroy said, trying to keep the peace. "I saw you kiss each other in the park, and I pretty much forced Vince to tell me the other day. He kept it quiet for months, really Howard".

"Thank you for being a loyal friend, Leroy", said Howard, "And I'm sorry I spoke to you like that, Vince, but I think we should be a bit more discreet, don't you?".

Vince didn't answer. He'd worked himself into a mood, even though he knew he was being unreasonable. The sensible part of him knew that Howard had just been trying to get along with his friend, and Leroy was just trying to show that he didn't resent Howard. The sensible part further knew that Vince himself was behaving in an immature way that Howard didn't appreciate.

It was a good thing that they'd arrived at the pub by now, and Howard was carefully parking the van in The White Hart's car park.

"Well, here we are", announced Howard, as if they'd driven about twenty miles instead of less than two. "And good luck for Open Mike Night".

He gave Vince a quick hand clasp, and Vince squeezed his hand back. Vince wished they could have hugged to make up their little spat, Howard kissing Vince fondly and telling him he was being silly, before they went in together, holding hands. That's what couples were meant to do when they had minor disagreements. But not when one of them is underage, and at The White Hart, probably not a good idea for two blokes in any case.

*****************************************************

Open Mike Folk Night was held in one of the back rooms of the pub, and the people attending looked far less alarming than The White Hart's usual clientele. They tended towards long unkempt hair and big loose knit jumpers worn over baggy trousers or gypsyish skirts, and nearly all of them had soft voices and serene smiles. Vince didn't think they seemed like a very scary audience, and he could understand why Leroy wanted to be a folk singer.

Howard grabbed them a table, and Vince and Leroy pored over the set list for the night, which had their names on it, towards the end.

"It all depends on who's ahead of us", said Leroy worriedly. "If it's someone really good, we'll look like crap in comparison to them. But if it's someone whose terrible, we'll look okay".

"We're after someone named Harriet Hogg", said Vince. "So _that'_ s alright".

"How is that alright?", asked a puzzled Howard.

"Well her name's Harriet, so she'll probably be about a hundred years old", reasoned Vince. "And her surname's Hogg".

"So ... you think she's going to look like a pig, because of her surname?", asked Howard. "Have little piggy eyes, or a nose like a snout? Or squeal like a pig when she sings?".

Vince nodded.

"You know my surname is Moon, but I don't actually look like the moon", Howard said. "And yours is Noir, but you're not black".

"My surname's Brown, and I've got brown eyes and brown hair", piped up Leroy. "And I like wearing brown – I think it suits me".

"Anyway, I still don't think someone named Harriet Hogg is any threat", said Vince comfortably.

Vince and Leroy took their coats off as it was warm in the pub, and Howard immediately said, "Hey, Simon and Garfunkel – _Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme_ ".

Vince beamed at him for recognising their inspiration without any prompting, and Leroy looked slightly better about his big frilly white blouse.

"What on _earth_ are you wearing, Leroy?", asked Clare, pushing her way towards their table and gazing at Leroy with a sort of horrified amusement.

"Er, hello Clare", said Leroy. "You remember Vince, and this is his friend, Howard. Howard, this is my girlfriend, Clare".

"Clare, what a lovely name", said Howard gallantly. "A lovely name for a very lovely young lady".

Clare rolled her eyes.

"So you're the famous Howard", she said, giving him a judicious look. "Well, this is going to make Delia feel better. Or worse".

"Delia is Clare's flatmate", explained Leroy. "Delia um ... well, she quite fancied Vince at one point, but you know ...".

"I'm sure Delia is a lovely young lady who will soon find a nice young gentleman who appreciates her", said Howard politely.

"She'll probably throw herself away on some good-looking twat who treats her like shit", Clare said, grumpily lighting a cigarette. "That's what she usually does".

She gave Vince a glare, and although Clare was five foot nothing and weighed ninety-eight pounds wringing wet, there was something fierce about her that made Vince inch himself into the background and keep very quiet. He felt sorry for the future good-looking twat – he had an idea Clare was going to give him hell.

"Would everyone like a drink?", suggested Howard. "I'll buy the first round".

He went to the bar after Clare said she wanted a Black Russian, Leroy a Coke, and Vince a Mockarita, and the first performer came to the stage while Howard was gone, looking terrified, and with the program running twenty minutes late already.

The barman said he didn't do Mockaritas, didn't get much call for them, but he'd put some lime juice into a glass of lemon squash and add plenty of ice - would that satisfy the lady? Howard said it probably would.

******************************************************

During the interval, Vince and Leroy went off to the toilets to do their make-up. It turned out boys putting on glam rock make-up in the men's bogs didn't go down well at The White Hart, but some kind-looking folky girls said they could use the mirrors in the women's toilets, and they'd stand around and let people know Vince and Leroy just wanted to do their make-up for a stage act, and weren't going to look under toilet doors or steal handbags or anything.

"They should really have public toilets that anyone can use", Vince said, making his face chalk white like Ziggy Stardust.

"You mean unisex toilets? They have those now in some places", one of the girls said. "Not in pubs like this though".

They got back to where Howard and Clare were sitting by themselves, not looking as if they were getting on very well, and Clare had bought the next round so they all had fresh drinks. Clare stared at their make-up in amazement, but Howard said, "Ziggy Stardust: glam make-up, folk clothes – you must be doing a glam-folk act".

Vince smiled at him approvingly, and Clare said, "I suppose that was _your_ idea, Vince". Vince admitted it was.

There were only two more acts before them – first a lanky depressive with a banjo named Geoff Nurdle, then Harriet Hogg. Almost inevitably, Harriet turned out to be a beautiful young woman with golden hair in ringlets down to her waist and sea-blue eyes, so stunning that her beauty was quite unmarred by her wearing a shapeless calico tunic over a gypsy skirt four sizes too big for her.

"She's far too pretty to have any talent", Vince said hopefully.

Harriet launched into a familiar Cornish folk song about two sweethearts separated by a feud, in a hauntingly lovely voice that brought everyone to tears when the lovers perished 'neath the stormy waves. By the end of the song, practically everyone was in love with Harriet, or wanted to adopt her.

"I think she's part-mermaid", grumbled Vince. "You know, one of those who lure men to their doom with their enchanting yet evil voices. It's not really fair to everyone else".

"Do you think she'd take me on as a music partner?", said Leroy. "I mean, just in case it doesn't work out with you, Vince".

"Don't be stupid, Leroy", snorted Clare. "She looks at least twenty-four; she's not going to want to hang around with a seventeen-year-old, is she? Oh sorry, Howard – er, it's probably different for girls".

There was thunderous applause for Harriet at the end of her performance, upon which she smiled daintily and sang a little song she had written herself. It sounded Celtic-inspired, and although the lyrics about a lost sailor were deceptively simple, the limpid melody had a way of winding itself obsessively into your heart and mind until the beat of your own blood in your veins drove you mad. The judges looked impressed.

Amidst the standing ovation for Harriet as she came offstage, she remembered to say to Leroy and Vince, "Good luck guys, I bet you'll be fantastic, and I love your costumes". Because as well as being a stunningly beautiful talented songwriter with a hauntingly lovely voice, Harriet Hogg was also sincere and encouraging. Vince thought she might be the worst person he had ever met.

Their act was announced as "Leroy Brown and Vince Noir, singing a folk version of _Ziggy Stardust_ ". There was a ripple of laughter from the audience as Leroy and Vince took to the stage, and someone called out "Simon and Garfunkel meets Bowie", which showed that at least one of them was getting the references.

Vince's voice quavered nervously on the first note, but Leroy didn't put a finger wrong on the guitar, and they got through their song relatively unscathed. The audience looked slightly stunned after hearing about the loaded well-hung leper messiah with a God-given ass making love with his ego looking like some cat from Japan. Howard and Clare clapped loudly, making encouraging gestures to those sitting around them, and Howard was so large and Clare so fierce-looking that everyone else clapped as well, until the judges deemed that they'd had enough applause to warrant an encore.

"This is an old song that my foster-dad used to sing me to sleep with", said Vince into the microphone. "I hope you like it, and feel free to join in if you know it".

_Now the party's over I'm so tired_  
_Then I see you coming out of nowhere_  
_Much communication in a motion_  
_Without conversation or a notion_  
_Avalon_

After some looks of surprise, quite a few people joined in softly, or at least hummed along, and there was spontaneous applause when they left the stage; Vince jubilant, and Leroy just glad it was over. They didn't hang around to watch the last acts, but went straight to the toilets to clean off their make-up and get changed, and this time nobody hassled them.

When they came back, Leroy greatly relieved to be out of the big frilly blouse, they discovered that Harriet had won the Open Mike, a fiddle band called Ploughman's Brunch had come second, and Vince and Leroy had been awarded Best Novelty Act.

"Well done, guys", Harriet said, congratulating them. "Your act was so clever, and you're super brave to go on stage at only seventeen. Vince, you sing like an angel".

"You sing like a mermaid", Vince said unwillingly. "And you look like a mermaid too".

"Wow that's so sweet of you", said Harriet. "Nobody's recognised me for over a century".

The air suddenly tasted of salt, and it felt as if time had frozen. In the deep silence, only Harriet's voice could be heard, a deafening whisper like the roar of the ocean when you place a shell to your ear.

"I know of what you seek, that you risk yourself to help others. And Vince, should you ever be in mortal peril on your quest, take this horn and blow upon it. I will send aid at once, in the name of the noble House of Hogg, anciently descended from the sea-hog, or porpoise".

She handed Vince an ivory hunting horn inlaid with pearls.

"Er, thanks Harriet", said Vince, putting the horn in his coat pocket. "That's really nice of you".

"Wait a minute, what did you just say?", Leroy demanded. Time had started up again.

"I said, Hey, let's all catch up at the Muswell Hill Folk Festival next summer", smiled Harriet.

"No, I saw you give something to Vince", Leroy insisted.

"Uh yeah, my phone number", said Harriet. "In case he ever felt like having a sing-song with me".

"Can I have your phone number too?", pleaded Leroy. "I'd love to play guitar and sing with you".

"'Course you can, lovey", said Harriet brightly, quickly handing him a piece of blue notepaper scrawled over with digits. "You take good care not to lose that, yeah?".

"Leroy, do you want to grab a lift with me?", asked Howard. "I'm taking Vince home now".

"No, that's okay, thanks Howard", blushed Leroy. "I'm, ah, getting a lift with Clare".

Vince and Leroy said goodbye to each other, Vince grinning and telling Leroy not to wait up.

*************************************************

They'd hardly been alone in the van for five minutes before Howard put an arm around Vince's shoulders and drove one-handed, and as soon as they stopped at some lights, he turned and gave Vince a quick kiss.

"Sorry about earlier", Howard said. "I shouldn't have been so quick to jump down your throat".

"I'm sorry too", Vince said. "I was acting like a stupid little tit".

"I know our friends are going to find out", said Howard, "but Leroy obviously told his girlfriend, and she doesn't seem to like me very much".

"It's just because you're with me", Vince said. "It's really me she's angry with, because I turned down her mate. That's the girl who licked my neck when I was drunk".

"Oh, Miss Neck Licker 1995, of course", nodded Howard.

"Girls' friends always get angrier with you than the actual girl ever does", Vince said, with the voice of experience. "That's why I never, ever turned anyone down, and why I ended up with over thirty girlfriends in one year. I couldn't take the aggro. But I'm with you now, so ... anyway, that's why Clare's so narky".

"Well, we can't afford to have enemies", said Howard. "So you'd better work your sweet-talking charm on Clare and tell her she looks like a tiny red-headed chain-smoking fairy queen or something. Get yourself into her good books".

Vince promised he would do his best, then he relayed to Howard everything Bryan had told him about the green-skinned devil-man Baboo Yagu, who made animals disappear mysteriously. Howard said it was their best lead yet, and that Naboo would have to be told about it.

Vince didn't tell Howard about Harriet giving him a hunting horn inlaid with pearls during a moment when time had stopped still. It was too weird, and sounded completely mental.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In real life, Bryan Ferry really was on tour in November 1995, and would have had to call Vince from Antwerp on this particular date.
> 
> In the UK, young people under 18 are allowed into pubs accompanied by adults at the pub's discretion. They aren't allowed to drink alcohol (in theory anyway), and might be refused even if buying soft drinks at the bar themselves. 
> 
> Leroy's surname is after the song "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown" by folk-rock singer Jim Croce. Although now I think of it, I may have subconsciously been thinking of Dave Brown.
> 
> Geoff Nurdle's surname is the same as the word for the tiny pellets of plastic used in industrial manufacturing. They are known as "mermaid tears" because they tend to pollute beaches and waterways to the detriment of marine life – hence the reason Geoff is described as a depressive.
> 
> I made up the "familiar Cornish folk song". Mermaids are particularly associated with Cornwall, and feuds were once common there. The song's narrative is basically a variation of "Romeo and Juliet". Cornish is a Celtic language, hence Harriet's song sounds Celtic-inspired.
> 
> The folk festival in Muswell Hill is a tribute to the classic English folk band, Fairport Convention. Their name comes from a house in Muswell Hill named Fairport where the band was founded.


	13. Stay the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter that's basically just pure smut. You can skip it completely if you want, and the story will continue tomorrow. Massive thanks to blackmountainbones, who has gone from a Smut Guru I revere to a Smut Deity I worship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If we get along, I could stay the night  
> If I think you're right, I could go along  
> ... I could tell you nothing's wrong  
> If it makes you feel right  
> I could tell you nothing's wrong  
> It wouldn't make it alright
> 
> Song Eleven Could Take Forever – Ned's Atomic Dustbin 
> 
> We made love in a way that a man and a small boy make love. Sorry. It’s gone a bit sexual. ~ Noel Fielding

Howard didn't say anything to Vince when they got inside the flat. He just took his hand, Vince's fingers sliding in between Howard's, and led him to the bedroom. Those few steps in the dark seemed to take an eternity, and then Howard switched on the lamp and let go of Vince's hand before turning on the heating.

In the soft yellow glow, Howard looked at Vince, and then they both began slowly undressing for bed, Howard taking off his coat, scarf, and roll-top jumper, then unbuttoning his shirt, unbuttoning his trousers, unlacing his shoes. Vince removed his coat, and pulled his jumper and tee shirt over his head in one motion, then tugged his jeans off and left them on the floor, along with his brogues. He stood in front of Howard in just his pants.

There hadn't been anything sexy about his strip-tease, just taking off clothes quickly and easily. But Howard kept looking at him until Vince felt nervous. Which was ridiculous – he'd spent most of his childhood in the forest practically naked, and thanks to boarding school, had been seen in communal showers so many times that nudity meant nothing to him. He'd taken his clothes off in front of girlfriends, and hadn't thought twice about it, but now his stomach was tense under Howard's gaze, and he felt like a stupid, scrawny kid next to Howard's strong, scarred body.

"What are you thinking about?", Vince asked.

"That I can't believe you let me touch you", Howard replied. "That I love you want to be mine. That you're so beautiful, and I can never get used to seeing your beauty".

Vince closed the gap between them, and stretched up to kiss Howard, trying to tell him with his lips and tongue all that he was thinking as well, if only he could put it into words.

"What are you thinking now?", Vince whispered.

"That it's bloody cold and we should get into bed", said Howard.

He scooped Vince into his arms, and snuggled him under the duvet before climbing in after him. He held Vince close, their bodies pressed together as they snogged. It felt as if all Vince's nerves were melting away under the stroke of Howard's tongue.

"Is it alright if I lie on top of you, Vince?", Howard asked.

"Yeah, 'course", Vince replied.

Howard immediately rolled on Vince and continued kissing him, harder this time. Vince wasn't quite prepared for how heavy Howard would feel, how hot it would be with Howard on him, like an extra blanket. But as he shifted his hips against Vince's, Vince instinctively pushed his own hips up to meet them. He gripped Howard's arms, and gave a little gasp.

Howard kissed hard at Vince's neck, one of his hands in Vince's hair, trying not to tug on it the way he wanted to. Vince could hardly believe how it felt, Howard's hips against him, the heavy bulk thrusting on him. He could feel Howard's cock straining against his pants, so much bigger than it felt in trousers, felt so much harder too. It was ... bloody _amazin_ g, Vince thought.

Vince held onto Howard shoulders and moaned, wrapping his arms around his neck, saying _Oh, Christy_. Because as well as making weird little gasping noises, he apparently said incomprehensible things while being humped by Howard. If Howard's body was hot like a blanket, his cock was the hottest part of it, the centre of his body heat. Vince wondered if he'd been kept warm the night that Howard rescued him by nothing more than Howard's huge erect penis pushed against him. He thought Howard’s cock was the best thing he had ever felt.

Howard braced himself on one forearm so as not to put all his weight on Vince, and gripped his thigh to grind his cock against Vince's. His breath was hot against Vince's neck, his fingers long enough to curl right around and grope Vince's arse and slide them beneath Vince's underwear. _Oh my Jagger_ , Vince thought as he whimpered and squirmed beneath Howard, arching his hips higher, trying to get closer. Howard kissed his neck, his throat, his chest; Howard’s mouth and tongue hot, his kiss hungry.

"Is this what you want, Vince?", Howard groaned into his skin, lips wet.

"Yes", Vince said with a hiss on the end.

"I need to know, because it feels as if there's something you want to say, and aren't saying it", Howard said, trying to slow his breath down so he could talk.

"I want to ... want to swear", confessed Vince.

"To swear?", asked a confused Howard.

"You know, say swear words. When it feels good”, Vince admitted sheepishly. “But Bryan doesn't like me to swear in front of other people".

Howard kissed him more gently, more tenderly.

"Vince, you don't have to say anything you don't feel comfortable with", he said. "But I'm sure Bryan would tell you that saying swear words in intimate moments is different".

"Alright", Vince agreed.

"What do you think about when you imagine us together?", Howard asked, running his mouth down Vince's chest and kissing his nipples.

"Everything. I can't even tell you, Howard. But I imagine everything. Not just kissing and that".

"If you can't say it, you're not ready to do it", said Howard, pushing hard into Vince until Vince whined and rolled himself into Howard's cock. "You know what I want", continued Howard. "Ask me for it, if you want it too".

"You mean the thing you said when I came over last?", said Vince, hardly daring to believe it. "Yes please, Howard".

"No, you have to ask for it", insisted Howard. "No more waiting for me to ask, then saying yes".

Howard stopped grinding on him, and slid down the bed to kneel between Vince's legs, holding his hips and stroking his stomach. Vince looked down at Howard’s scarred torso, his strong hips and thighs, his bulky cock trapped inside his pants.

"Ask me", said Howard, his finger stroking just inside the waistband of Vince's pants before leaning down to kiss Vince on the stomach. He kissed Vince again, further down, almost a love bite. That made Vince twitch and dig his fingers into Howard's shoulders, as he whined, "Oh yes ... come on".

"Ask me for what you want", demanded Howard, his breath hot on Vince's belly. "I need to hear it".

Vince's inched himself towards Howard's mouth, winding his hands into Howard's dark hair, and looking into his brown eyes, willing Howard to understand what he wanted. His cock was throbbing and he wanted nothing more than for Howard to keep his promise and take him in his mouth.

"Please, Howard ... please put me in your mouth", he gasped out.

Howard looked into Vince's eyes, as if looking for confirmation that he’d meant it, that he wasn't being forced. Vince put his hands over Howard's, and gently urged them onto his pants, so that they both slowly pushed Vince's pants down together.

"Oh God", Howard groaned, as the glistening head of Vince's cock was exposed. "You're so beautiful, little man".

He pulled Vince's pants down, already leaning forward in anticipation once they reached his thighs. His mouth opened into a hot kiss on the tip of Vince's cock, his tongue brushing the slit, licking up the slick precum beading there.

Howard tugged Vince's underwear off, and ran his tongue all over his cock. Vince let out a little noise, instinctively pushing himself closer to Howard's mouth. One of Howard's hands cupped his balls, and he licked those as well, his moustache tickling until Vince gave a giggle. His other hand gently stroked along Vince's cock, his thumb just barely touching it, until Vince felt desire curl in his stomach.

"Please Howard, now", begged Vince, his fingers in Howard's hair, pushing him lower.

He saw a little smile on Howard's lips, then his mouth was on Vince’s cock, full and hot, drawing him in. Howard sucked at him, his lips wet and sloppy, the sensation making Vince arch his back. The pressure of Howard’s mouth built into a steady, maddening rhythm.

"F-f-fuck", panted Vince. This was better than any of his fantasies, and he could feel it rising inside him until every nerve in his body was tingling. "Oh f-fuck, that feels fucking genius, Howard". His hands shook as he twisted his fingers into Howard's hair, barely able to believe Howard could be so hungry for him.

Vince had been given a couple of blowies before by an ex-girlfriend or two, but this was completely different. It felt as if Howard's mouth was pulling him apart, so much so that he had to put one hand behind him on the headboard and bury the other in Howard's hair to keep himself anchored. He realised that he was basically fucking Howard's mouth, Howard's beautiful mouth that he loved so much, filling it up. Howard was even gagging on him a bit, but he didn't seem to care.

Vince rocked his hips forward, watching Howard's mouth work around his cock, his lips red and swollen, his stubbled chin damp with saliva. Howard's eyes were closed as if in concentration, his fine brown hair growing loosier and messier. It went on and on, the pleasure building until Vince writhed, trembled and came, crying out, "Yes, oh fuck, please".

Howard, sucking down every bit of him, murmuring, "You're perfect". Howard licked him clean, so greedily that he made sure not a drop would escape his mouth.

Nobody had ever swallowed Vince’s cum before - the girls who had sucked on him being very careful to stop before he came. After the first time that had happened, he thought it must be rude to come in someone's mouth, so he had warned the next girl in plenty of time. But Howard licked him as though he loved the way Vince tasted, and it felt so intimate, so complete.

Howard climbed back on the bed, holding Vince, and kissing him over and over again until Vince could taste himself on Howard's breath.

"I can't get enough of you, little man", Howard said, nuzzling fondly into Vince's neck, and cuddling him close to his chest. He kissed Vince slowly, long sweet kisses, gently stroking his cheek. "I wish I could be with you every night".

"Me too, Howard", said Vince.

"I've been nuts over you since the second I saw you, Vince", Howard said softly. "I know it's wrong, but it's the truth, my beautiful little man".

"Been mental over you since the same time", said Vince. "And I don't even care if it's wrong".

He reached down and put his hand down Howard's pants, curling his fingers around Howard's thick, hard cock, exploring it. Vince shoved at Howard's underwear until his cock was free of it, falling out heavily and twitching under Vince's touch. Howard gave a low, growling moan as Vince rubbed him, using both hands. Vince thought how touching Howard felt both familiar and completely new compared to handling his own cock – not only was Howard thicker and heavier, but the angle he held him at was subtly different, and that in itself seemed mysteriously exciting.

"Fuck you're huge", Vince said admiringly. "I love that you've got a massive cock".

"God Vince, I can't hang on if you say things like that", Howard said, pushing himself into Vince's hand.

"Don't then", said Vince. "I really want you to come. You're so fucking sexy, Howard".

Howard suddenly got up and knelt on the bed, holding his own cock and rubbing it against Vince's flat little stomach. Vince gave a satisfied noise, urging Howard on as the thick length of his cock slipped through his own fingers. Howard twisted his wrist, rubbing harder and harder until he came with a low grunt and a quick movement of his hips and hands, his cum making a mess all over Vince's chest and belly.

"Oh God", Howard groaned, dragging a hand through his damp hair before sitting back to look at Vince, who was smiling up at him, his blue eyes looking enormous in the dim lamplight.

"That was well filthy", said Vince adoringly.

Howard leaned forward and placed his lips against Vince's, his kiss as smooth and as sweet as honey. Vince wrapped his arms around Howard's neck, and they lay with their bodies pressed together, warm and sticky.


	14. The Back of the Van

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard takes Vince out on patrol, and they follow up a promising clue. At least, until they get a bit distracted ... Looks like it's time for the Shaman Council to finally get involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was still on a buzz  
> In the back of the van
> 
> Caught by the Fuzz – Supergrass 
> 
> Noel was a feral child. ~ Julian Barratt
> 
> There are no characters. It's based on us. ~ Noel Fielding

Vince woke to an empty bed and the lamp on. It was still dark outside.

"Howard?", he called.

"Sorry I woke you", said Howard, coming back into the bedroom, fully dressed. "I have to go on patrol for a couple of hours – stay in bed and get some sleep".

"You can't leave me behind!", Vince said hotly. "You said if it wasn't for my education you'd love for me to come out in the van with you. Well, it isn't a school night, and all my homework is done".

Howard looked unsure, then said, "Oh, okay then. But wrap up really warm – the heater in the van isn't that great".

Vince grinned, and immediately began getting dressed. Howard gave him an extra jumper to wear over the one he already had, as well as a scarf and a woollen beanie, before he put on his winter coat.

Howard's advice had been sound – once they were in the van, Vince was freezing, even with extra layers of clothing. He shivered, but Howard told him the heater would kick in around the ten minute mark.

"So where are we going?", Vince asked, rubbing his goose-pimpled arms.

"Going to drive around the East End for a while", replied Howard. "Start in Whitechapel, then circle around and finish at Mile End".

"I'm from the East End", said Vince. "At least, I think I am".

"What do you mean, you only _think_ you are?".

"Well, when Bryan found me in the forest, he looked around for clues as to who had left me there, and there was a bus ticket from Bethnal Green to Stepney nearby. It was a bit creased, but he could tell it had only just been dropped – it was still dry and clean, and it was date-stamped the day before. So he always told me he thought my family must have been East Enders".

"Do you still have the bus ticket?", Howard wondered.

"Yes – Bryan stuck it onto the house. He collects bus tickets and they always go on the house, for decoration".

"You know, it might not have been dropped by your family, but by someone else", Howard pointed out. "And even if was, it only means they caught a bus in the East End, not that they lived there".

"I know", said Vince. "I just sort of _feel_ that I'm from the East End".

"You've got a French surname", Howard said. "Did you ever think you might have family in France?".

"I dunno", said Vince. "Do I look French to you?".

"Yeah, you do", said Howard. "You've got a French nose".

"My beak? Is it French?", asked Vince with interest, touching his prominent nose.

"Yeah, I saw men with noses like that all over France", Howard said.

"Well, I do like fashion", said Vince. "I'd love to see the fashion houses of Paris. And Euro Disney".

"You're probably descended from French dukes, a child of the croissant", said Howard with a smile. "How do you know what your surname is, anyway?".

"It was written on a tag around my neck", said Vince, gesturing to his collarbone. "VINCE NOIR, in big letters, and then underneath, _Please look after this kid_ ".

"Like Paddington Bear", said Howard. "But why didn't it say _Vincent_ Noir?".

"I dunno", said Vince. "It just said Vince. I think that's my whole name".

"It _can't_ be", argued Howard. "It _must_ be short for Vincent".

"It doesn't have to be", said Vince. "Like blokes just called Jack or Harry, not nicknames for John or Henry".

"Vince isn't like Jack or Harry", Howard insisted. "It has to be short for something else".

"Well, that's all I've got", said Vince. "Just Vince".

They were driving down Whitechapel Road now, the heater made a noise like it might start working soon, and Howard left aside the mystery of Vince's full name and his origins for now.

"We've got to get off this road", he said. "Into the smaller side streets and lanes, where people are more likely to hide".

He turned off towards Spitalfields, and was soon travelling past the curry houses of Brick Lane. There were numerous little closes and rows in this area that seemed suitable for hiding and doing evil deeds under the cover of darkness, as there often weren't any streetlights.

Unfortunately, that made it slightly difficult for Howard and Vince to tell whether any evil deeds were being committed or not. They saw loads of dodgy things, but nothing to do with shaman's familiars, and Howard thought they'd better stick to the task at hand, and not start solving petty crimes all over the East End as it wasn't really their job. He was pretty sure that if they kept interfering, they'd get stabbed up quick smart.

They were near the Wapping Foreshore when Vince suddenly whispered, "Look, over there Howard. See that old geezer?".

Howard looked, and sure enough, in the distance ahead of them was a thin character with long white hair wearing dark clothing and a top hat. What was most noticeable though is that they could see his hands, including an enormous thumb on one of them, and his hands looked green, and when he turned his head to look where the path went, his face seemed to be green as well.

"Get in the back of the van, Vince", ordered Howard. "We've got to hide, and watch for him to come back the other way – the only way he can go is along that path. We can't let him see us".

They both scrambled into the back of the van, where it was even colder, and lay down flat. Vince found a blanket there, and dragged it over both of them.

"Handy that you had this blanket", Vince said. "It's really fluffy and warm".

"It's a picnic blanket", said Howard. "I bought it after that day in the park, when you thought I'd brought you a picnic. I thought it would be nice if we could go for a real picnic one day".

"You're joking. We'd only known each other a little while, and you bought a picnic blanket for us, even thought it wouldn't be warm enough to use it for months?".

"Yeah, I know it sounds stupid", said Howard. "Got a picnic basket too – it's a really good one".

"Wow, that's incredible Howard", said Vince, now knowing it was a really good picnic basket digging into his hip. "I love that you're always thinking about the future".

"I have to, Vince, it's the only thing keeping me going", said Howard in a low voice. "Everything I'm doing with you in the present is breaking the law, and I hate it. I love being with you, and everything we do together, but I hate that it's wrong, and I hate keeping it a secret. I can't wait until we can be together properly".

"What do you want to do together once we can?", asked Vince.

"Everything. I want to take you to Leeds to meet my parents. I want to travel with you. I want to go shopping with you without being worried. I want to hold your hand in public. I want to be able to call you my boyfriend or my partner, not just my friend. I want to go to bed with you every night and wake up with you every morning, and make you breakfast, and be with you every day, for as long as you want me".

They were already close together under the blanket, and it was easy for Vince to lean over a little bit and kiss Howard.

"I want all that too", Vince whispered. "I'm really cold, though".

"I'll warm you up", said Howard, getting on top of Vince so that his body heat would cover Vince. He tugged the picnic blanket more firmly around them and tried to tuck it under Vince.

It was only natural that with their faces close together, Howard would then proceed to snog Vince, and Vince would wrap his arms around Howard and hold him tight. Vince made little moaning noises of pleasure; he couldn't help remembering what had happened last time Howard lay on top of him, just a few hours previously. Kissing Howard's mouth was a reminder of what else Howard could do with it, and Vince wondered if Howard could feel his stiffy under so many layers of clothes.

The back of the van suddenly swung up and open, and Howard and Vince froze in terror that they had been discovered. Vince was scared the green-skinned devil was after them, while Howard feared it was the police.

"Knew they'd be bumming in here", said a bored voice.

"Get off precious Vince! Harold too big to lie on him, will crush delicate flower", someone growled.

"Naboo, get Bollo in the back of the van; he's in terrible danger", said Howard frantically.

Naboo and Bollo both jumped in the back of the van and swung the door shut behind them. Vince offered them the picnic blanket, but Naboo said he didn't want a rug they'd been bumming on, and he had Bollo to keep him warm.

"Why did you come here, Naboo?", Howard asked. "And how did you know where we were?".

"I saw it in the tea leaves", Naboo replied. "Look".

He held out a tea cup, and the leaves at the bottom spelt _Howard and Vince are in danger_. Naboo then showed them Bollo's cup: _They are at Shadwell Basin. Probably bumming_. It looked as if the second part had been added in pencil.

"We saw him", said Vince excitedly. "My foster-father Bryan said there is a green-skinned devil called Baboo Yagu, and whenever he is around, animals mysteriously disappear. Well, Howard and I saw an old geezer wearing a top hat going down that lane, and he had green skin!".

"So we've been watching and waiting for him to come back the other way", explained Howard.

"Been watching really carefully?", asked Naboo innocently. "Didn't get distracted or nothing?".

"Er ... maybe a bit", admitted Howard uncomfortably. "Look, you all wait in the van and keep a sharp lookout, and I'll go down the lane and see if I can see him".

Howard opened the back door and got out, waving goodbye to the others and trying not to seem as nervous as he was. He walked down the lane until he reached the Basin, but he didn't see the green-skinned man. There were two men fishing there.

"Good evening, gentlemen", Howard said politely.

"Hello", one of the men said cautiously. They were usually only approached by drunks and nutters while night fishing, and Howard didn't seem drunk.

"I wonder if you've seen an elderly gentleman with a green complexion coming past here, possibly wearing a top hat?".

"Yeah", the second one said. "We seen him around before. He were going eeling".

"They still catch eels around here?", asked Howard.

"Lots of people do it, usually older ones", the man said. "There's some that still enjoy a nice dish of eels".

"And did he come back this way?", asked Howard.

"Nah mate, but he wouldn't have to, would he?", answered the first man.

"I thought this path was the only way in or out of the Basin from this direction", said Howard in concern.

"Nah mate, they opened it up last year, didn't they?", the man said.

"You can go right around now", the second man chipped in. "Right over to the other side if you want. It all links up, like".

"Thank you for your assistance", said Howard glumly. "I'm sorry for disturbing your fishing".

"You're right mate", said the first man. "What you want this geezer for, anyway?".

"Oh er, I owe him some money", said Howard. "Just wanted to pay him back".

"Blimey, at this hour? You'd be better off letting him get away", said the second man in disbelief.

Howard gave a mirthless chuckle and left the men to their fishing.

After he'd gone, the men turned to each other.

"Nutter", they said in agreement.

******************************************************

Howard drove around Shadwell Basin a while longer, checking other pathway entrances, but there was no sign of the green-skinned man. He drove home, feeling that once again he had failed dismally as a night patrolman. Even though they hadn't seen the green-skinned man again, he had told the other three to remain hidden in the back, with the picnic blanket over them for warmth and comfort. At least he was bringing everyone home safely, he consoled himself.

Howard took Naboo and Bollo home first, making sure to escort them right to the door, then drove a few more yards until he was parked outside his own flat. He walked around to the back of the van and opened it, Vince sliding straight into his arms. They walked upstairs together, and as soon as they got in the door, Vince kissed Howard.

"I know you think everything is your fault, but it really isn't", Vince said.

"Let's just go back to bed and get some sleep", Howard said heavily.

Once in bed, Vince cuddled up to Howard.

"We know we're on the right track now", he said confidently. "We got a lead on a green-skinned man, and we've seen him in the area. We know he exists, and we know he's around the East End, right where the animals are disappearing".

"And I let him get away", said Howard.

"You didn't know the path had been changed", Vince said. "You went after him all by yourself. You were really brave. You protected all of us".

Howard leaned over and kissed Vince on the mouth.

"I also got very distracted having you in the van", he said, with the tired ghost of a smile in his voice.

"You were just keeping me warm", Vince teased. "I loved everything you said to me under the blanket. It was ... amazing that you think of our future like that".

"Like I said, the future is the only thing I have to hold onto", said Howard. "The present makes me feel guilty and worried ninety percent of the time. The only time I feel okay is when I'm with you".

"It sounded as if you want to be with me for the rest of your life", said Vince.

"I want to be with you for as long as you want me", said Howard steadily.

"Well, I want you forever", said Vince.

"You can't make a commitment like that, Vince", said Howard, kissing his forehead. "You're far too young".

"Did you promise Tommy to be with him always?", asked Vince.

"No, he never asked that of me. It wouldn't have been right – I was very young, only a few days off my twenty-first birthday when he died. We took it day by day, and didn't think about the future", Howard replied.

"Well, when _can_ I make that commitment?", asked Vince.

"You have to finish all your education, not just school. You need to travel, and work, and have a life of your own. And we should live together for at least a year before you even think about it", said Howard.

"That seems like a really long time to wait", sighed Vince.

"That just shows how young you are", said Howard, nuzzling him. "It's really only a few years, and you'll still be younger than I am now".

"Am I allowed to say that I _want_ to make a commitment when I'm old enough?", Vince asked. "You know, a sort of pre-commitment commitment?".

"Ugh, you're like a nagging wife already", complained Howard. "Just go to sleep".

He pulled Vince into his arms and let him nestle on his shoulder. Vince smiled to himself. Despite Howard's apparent grumpiness, he could tell that it made him happy to talk about their future together, and that he actually loved hearing Vince say he wanted to be with Howard forever. And he had made Howard stop worrying about letting the green-skinned man get away, which had been his chief objective.

*******************************************************

Vince woke to an empty bed and the curtains drawn, although it was light outside.

"Good morning, Vince", said Howard, coming back into the bedroom, fully dressed. "Did I wake you up? I just finished my morning Jazzercise, and I'm ready for a shower".

"Morning, Howard", said Vince, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "I want a shower too".

"Do you want to come in with me?", Howard said with a shy smile.

Vince responded by bouncing out of bed with a huge grin on his face. This was something he'd been longing for since almost the first day he spent with Howard.

It was so cramped in the shower that they stood with Vince's back to Howard's chest, Howard pulling Vince in close. He soaped Vince from behind, Howard's long arms coming around to wash his chest and stomach. His hands got gradually lower and lower, which was making Vince almost vibrate with excitement.

And then having Howard hold his cock, and firmly yet tenderly rub his hand up and down it while the warm water fell over them. He could hear Howard murmuring in his deep voice, "Is that okay, darling? Is that how you like it, little man?", and feel him kissing the back of his neck. It was a hundred fantasies come true at once, and although Vince had wanked off in the shower many times picturing this very scene, the reality was so much better – so much sweeter than he had imagined.

Afterwards Howard had turned Vince around to hug and kiss him, telling him he was beautiful. Vince had been able to feel Howard's erection pressed up against him the whole time Howard had been washing him and taking care of him, and now he put his hands around it. It felt as if Howard was holding his breath, but he didn't tell Vince to stop, and Vince explored it with his fingers, its length and breadth, its weight. The feel of the head, heavy in his hand, and velvety to the touch ...

Vince began crouching down as if ready to kiss it, to hold it in his mouth, but Howard hauled him up, saying "No, you don't". His face was strained, but determined.

"But I want to", protested Vince. "How come you get to do it to me, but not the other way around?".

Howard was adamant on that one, but he did allow Vince to keep pumping his cock, using both hands, until Howard was biting on Vince's shoulder, groaning with a pleasure that sounded like pain. Vince almost burst with pride when he brought Howard to climax, if only because Howard seemed to come more laboriously than Vince did. Howard gave a deep gasp, like a diver coming up for air, and then a rough-feeling kiss against Vince's cheek, before switching the water off.

Howard reached over and grabbed Vince a towel, saying, "Hurry up and get dressed, and I'll make us a proper Sunday breakfast".

***************************************************

By the time Vince had finished getting ready, Howard had already cooked the sausages and bacon, and set them aside to keep warm. When Vince came into the kitchen, filled with a comforting smell of grease, Howard was cracking the eggs into the pan with a sizzle, and turning the heat down.

"What took you so long?", he asked Vince.

"Had to do my hair", Vince replied, gently touching his russet locks.

"Well, it looks lovely", said Howard with a grin. "Red hair quite suits you, really".

He leaned down and put his hands on Vince's sides before landing a kiss, and then another, and one more for luck. Vince stretched up to run his hands through Howard's messy brown curls, while Howard kissed his cheek, his jawline, and down to the base of his throat.

"Go set the table", Howard said at last, pushing Vince away. "I'll ruin the breakfast if you stay here with me".

But the breakfast wasn't ruined (it would take a lot more than a few lingering kisses to spoil Howard's cooking), and the two of them sat down to Howard's idea of a proper Sunday breakfast in good time. His idea of that turned out to be Lincolnshire sausages and smoky streaked bacon with tomatoes and button mushrooms, graced with fried eggs and toast. Vince praised it to the skies as usual, and Howard wondered why perfectly normal food seemed to be such a revelation for Vince.

"Well Howard, I grew up in a forest eating raw meat caught by animals, wild fruit and nuts, and vegetables we grew ourselves", explained Vince. "Then boarding school food, and now boarding house food. I mean, I didn't go hungry, but it's not good cooking like yours".

"Did you never stay with friends when you were at school?", Howard asked.

"Only for weekends – I couldn't wait to get back to the forest in the holidays", replied Vince. "And I think I'd got so used to not really liking food that I was scared to try anything new and didn't really eat properly at other people's houses. Just takeaway, cakes, and sweets and that, or slices of bread and apples. And I don't think anyone else can cook like you anyway".

Howard and Vince did the washing up together, Vince playfully splashing Howard with water, and Howard giving Vince a little smack on his bum with a damp tea towel in retaliation.

"I'll come at you like a beam of light", Howard joked. "I'll put my moves on you".

"Huh, _your_ moves", scoffed Vince. "I've felt them, they're like being caressed with wet silk".

And then Howard grabbed Vince as if he was rugby tackling him, and shut him up with a kiss that smashed into his mouth and made Vince's toes curl with delight. He loved it when Howard stopped treating him like a dainty china doll. Because he might be pretty and look fragile, but he was a boy, and he was tough, used to the rough and tumble of the football field, and the rigours of forest life – not to mention the wild lawless jungle that is boarding school.

They had only just sat down with a cup of tea each, giving little looks under their eyelashes and smirking secretly at one another, when there was a knock at the door that managed to be very loud, and somehow also sounded nagging yet irritated.

"Could you get that, Vince?", asked Howard. "It's sure to be someone selling something, and you'll be much better at charmingly getting rid of them than I am".

Vince went to the front door, full of importance that Howard had not only given him a task, but said that he would be better at it than Howard. He opened the front door with a wide smile, as if it was his flat as well as Howard's ... as if they already shared a home.

On the doormat was a handsome but sullen-looking man with a bush of curly black hair, upon which sat an enormous hat with a feather in it. He carried a backpack slung loosely over one shoulder.

"Hel-", Vince began, but didn't get any further.

The man pushed past him into the flat, muttering that he'd been surrounded by idiots all ruddy morning, and he wasn't going to put up with another one, grinning like a fool and trying to say _Hello_ , which was one of those moronic catchphrases uttered by the type of imbecile that he simply couldn't stand.

"Hey!", said Vince indignantly, but it turned out _Hey_ was another of those asinine expressions that the man had brutally torn from his phrasebook.

The man stalked into the kitchen on pointy-toed boots, swirling his velour coat around him like a grouchy version of Huggy Bear, followed by a resentful Vince. He dumped his backpack unceremoniously onto the kitchen table, and said, "Are you Moon?".

"Yes", gaped Howard, getting to his feet. "And who are _you_ , I might ask?".

"Saboo, Shaman Council", the man answered tersely. "And this is my colleague, Tony Harrison. We're often chosen for the more exciting missions of the Shaman Council, such as looking up a pair of wankers in a flat in Dalston".

Howard and Vince gazed around searchingly for Tony Harrison, while Saboo glared at them for being so dim-witted.

"Come out, Tony Harrison", he snapped. "Have you gone to sleep in there, you plum? Get out of the backpack or you'll be for the crunch".


	15. Show Me Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a visit from two shamans, Howard and Vince attend a meeting of the Shaman Council in a very secret location.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And wouldn't it be nice to know  
> What the paper doesn't show  
> And what the TV doesn't say  
> And what my hamster ate today 
> 
> God! Show Me Magic – Super Furry Animals 
> 
> Me and my best friend, Craig, learned to kiss from watching "Dynasty" and "Dallas". There were two girls we hung out with, and one day we had a kissing session. That was exciting. ~ Noel Fielding

"Come out, Tony Harrison", Saboo snapped. "Have you gone to sleep in there, you plum? Get out of the backpack or you'll be for the crunch".

"How dare you?", came an odd nasal voice from the backpack on the kitchen table. "I am not asleep, and it is a papoose, not a backpack. I am suffering from motion sickness".

A strange bubblegum-pink head showed above the top of the backpack, looking remarkably like a ballsack with a striking face in it.

"How did you get motion sickness?", demanded Saboo. "I only carried you upstairs".

"Yeah, it were the stairs what did it", moaned Tony Harrison. "All that swaying about as you climbed. I'm worse on coaches, and as for ferries, I'm all over the shop – it's a nightmare going to Calais with Mrs Harrison".

"Please Tony, take me through every mode of transportation and how it makes you hurl", said Saboo sarcastically. "That sounds like a wonderful way to pass the time on our mission".

"I'm alright on horses", Tony Harrison said defensively.

"Great, well I'll just remember to pack a horse next time we have to climb some stairs", sniffed Saboo. "Then we'll just clip-clop up the stairwell on old Dobbin, shall we?".

"You absolute jerk-off!", Tony Harrison responded.

Howard gave a small but significant cough.

"I wonder if you could tell us why you're both here?", he asked in a reasonable tone.

"Oh right, now comes the part where I have to deal with more ruddy idiots", complained Saboo. "Explain it in simple words of one syllable, and they still won't get it".

"We haven't had any trouble understanding you so far", said Howard quietly. "I don't think we'll have any problems with the rest of it".

Saboo sighed histrionically, as if this was further evidence of the stupidity he had to put up with on an hourly basis.

"Right, which one of you is the son of The Ferry Man, Lord of the Forest?", he asked in an almost accusing way.

"That's me", said Vince. "But I'm his foster-son, not his son".

"Oh, well excuse _me_ ", snarled Saboo. "Sorry if I've already totally confused you by not bringing a dictionary for morons so that I can communicate more effectively".

Saboo took out a page of notes, and read from them as he continued.

"Naboo has submitted a report to the Shaman Council saying that the _foster_ -son of The Lord of the Forest received information from his _foster_ -father that there is a legendary devil or witch or man named Baboo Yagu, who has green skin, and is known for being in the vicinity whenever animals disappear. Is that correct?".

"Yes", Vince nodded.

"Based on a belief in this mythical creature, which we don't even know if it's supernatural or just a bloke in a costume, some flimsy circumstantial evidence, and what I can only describe as racial profiling based entirely on his skin colour, you two knob ends decided to follow an old man around Shadwell Basin last night, as explained in Naboo's report. Correct?".

"Well, to some extent", said Howard. "I mean, that's an extremely hostile interpretation, and I'm sure Naboo didn't actually say all that".

Saboo referred to his notes again.

"Naboo also said the two of you were discovered bumming in the back of your van when you were supposed to be on patrol", Saboo commented.

"Bumming on patrol? That's an outrage!", said Tony Harrison. "You filthy slags!".

"No, that isn't true", Howard said. "Vince had become very cold, and I was using my body heat to warm him up. It was purely a medical intervention".

"I suppose his mouth had got very cold, that's why you were discovered with your tongue in it", said Saboo maliciously. "Licking it warm, I expect".

"None of that is in any way relevant", said Howard firmly, "so how about you get on with telling us why you're here?".

Saboo rummaged around in the backpack, which made Tony Harrison give protesting little squeaks, saying it was an outrage, and Saboo was touching his tentacles in an inappropriate way. Saboo ignored Tony Harrison, and pulled something out of the backpack without letting them see what it was.

"I understand that both of you managed to get a look at the man you were following", Saboo said. "Is this him?".

He melodramatically produced a photograph, which he slammed down on the kitchen table with the air of someone showing a winning poker hand. Vince and Howard peered down to have a look at it: it depicted an elderly man with bright green skin and a very large nose and long chin, wearing a top hat, and with a giant polo mint over one eye. There were more polo mints around his hat brim.

"Yeah, that's him", said Vince. "Definitely".

"Where did you get this photo?", asked Howard.

"After Naboo submitted his report last night, Tony Harrison and I were immediately put on the case", said Saboo with a self-satisfied smirk. "Without wasting any time, we located a man in the East End fitting the description you'd given, and managed to take several photos of him".

"I took the photos", said Tony Harrison. "I don't have any hands, but I can hold a camera in my tentacles if someone puts me in a papoose and fits me with the correct strap".

"So what do you think of him, having seen him yourselves?", Howard asked. "Do you think he could be the one taking the shamans' familiars?".

"I say we go after him", said Saboo, with surprising relish. "I mean, just one look and you can see he's a villain".

"Yes, a nasty piece of work", added Tony Harrison. "And I have some excellent plans for bringing him down – I was chosen for this very case owing to being a master of strategy".

"Oh pray do tell, Tony, please share just one of your amazing strategems with us", snarked Saboo.

"My plan is this. We go after Baboo Yagu, we find him, and we very quickly defeat him, making sure that none of us become lost or injured in the process", said Tony Harrison confidently.

"Bravo, Tony", said Saboo with an ironic hand clap. "I'm _so_ pleased the Shaman Council chose you to be my partner. I have so much to learn from the master".

"Well, thanks for stopping by", said Howard. "I'm glad if we were able to give you any assistance".

"No, I haven't told you why we're here yet", said Saboo. "Tony Harrison and I are due to submit our report to the Shaman Council this evening, and we need you to attend".

"Not Vince", said Howard. "It's a school night, and I've got to get him back to his boarding house".

"It's the Forest Lord's kid we want", insisted Tony Harrison. "He knows about Baboo Yagu. It's really important that he be there".

"You both have to come", Saboo said. "Collect Naboo and his familiar at six pm; he will guide you to the secret meeting place. Be there, or face the eternal wrath of the all-powerful Shaman Council".

"Alright", said Howard, not looking best pleased. "But we have to be finished no later than eight – Vince must get home in time to go to bed at a reasonable hour. He's got school tomorrow".

"Yes don't worry, you'll be able to get him into his jimmy-jams so he can go sleepy-bobos soon enough", said Saboo with a patronising expression.

*****************************************************

After Saboo and Tony Harrison left, Vince and Howard finished their cups of tea, and discussed this new development.

"I was planning to take you out today", said Howard in annoyance, "but now we've got to go to this meeting, we'd better hang around the flat and rest up for it".

"Where were you going to take me?", Vince asked.

"Thought we might go for a drive, get out of the city", Howard replied. "A sort of mini road trip".

"That would have been genius", said Vince. "But we have to concentrate on catching this bloke. We'll go for a drive together once all the familiars are safe".

"Let's go and listen to some music", suggested Howard, getting up and leading the way into the living room. "What do you want to hear, Vince?".

"Could you put Miles Davis on?", asked Vince. "Everyone seems to know about him except me".

"Yes of course", said Howard, putting a vinyl record on the turntable, and trying not to skip around the room in delight that Vince was showing an interest in jazz music. "This is _In a Silent Way_ , and it's a classic album from a pioneer of jazz. Very minimalist, which I like, and perhaps one of the first to begin moving towards jazz fusion".

"Have you ever seen him?", Vince wanted to know.

"Yes – Dad took me to one of his concerts in Manchester", Howard replied. "That would have been just a couple of years before Davis died, but I would have loved to have seen him at the height of his career".

"You know, when you were talking about jazz with Leroy, I got really jealous", Vince confessed.

"You got _jealous_?", Howard asked in amazement. "What made you jealous?".

"I dunno. It just seemed like you had more in common with Leroy than with me, and that you must think I was really thick", said Vince. "And I felt bad, because I hadn't made any effort to learn about jazz. I didn't even know that your favourite musician was Robbie Coltrane".

"John Coltrane", Howard corrected him. "Robbie Coltrane is an actor – but it's an easy mistake to make, since Robbie picked his stage name because of the jazz musician".

"See? I don't know anything", Vince said despondently. "Could you at least teach me a little bit?".

"The thing I like about jazz was the movement from bebop to modal jazz in the late '50s, where they made more of a use of the flat nine chord", began Howard enthusiastically.

"Very fascinating", said Vince, already completely lost. He stifled a yawn.

Howard put his arm around him, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Vince, you don't have to learn about jazz just to please me", he said comfortingly. "I love jazz, and I love talking about it with other interested people, but you shouldn't feel jealous about it, really".

Vince put his head on Howard's shoulder, and held his hand.

"Thanks Howard – I think I really am a bit too thick to learn about jazz", said Vince.

"You're not thick. You're just not interested", said Howard. "I don't know anything about art or fashion or make-up – does that make you think _I'm_ thick?".

"Not even a tiny bit", Vince assured him.

"And it's the same for me", Howard said. "My feelings for you have got nothing to do with jazz".

"There's something else", Vince said reluctantly. "I felt jealous of Leroy because I thought ... you might think he's cuter than me".

" _What_? That's ridiculous!", said Howard, genuinely shocked. "I never thought of Leroy as anything except your friend, and I wanted to get along well with him for your sake".

"So you didn't notice his appearance at all?", asked Vince.

"No Vince, except he doesn't have stunning blue eyes like yours", said Howard. "You're so beautiful, you've got no reason to be jealous of anyone's appearance, really. You won't be so silly again, will you?".

Vince shook his head, and Howard leaned over and kissed him softly, then more passionately as Vince returned his kisses. Somehow they ended up lying on the big sofa together, with Vince curled up in Howard's arms. It seemed more comfortable that way, and made kissing easier.

"Can I ask about something else?", Vince said, in between kisses.

"Mm, of course you can", Howard answered. "Anything at all".

"How come you didn't let me take you in my mouth, I mean in the shower this morning?".

"I didn't want your first time to be crouching or kneeling in a shower", said Howard. "It would have been really uncomfortable, and it's harder work than you might think".

"So it would have been alright if we were in bed or on the sofa?", asked Vince suggestively.

"You don't need to rush into stuff like that, Vince", Howard said seriously. "We've got plenty of time. You make me so happy, just being here with me. You don't need to do anything else".

"And if I wanted to?", asked Vince, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Plenty of time", Howard said again. "You're young, and I'm not going anywhere".

"Who was the first person you ever kissed?", asked Vince, snuggling up confidentially.

"A fisherman called Pedro, when I was nineteen", said Howard.

"You snogged a _fisherman_?", giggled Vince. "How old was he?".

"I don't know – maybe thirty or so? I found out later he was married, so I felt bad about that, and I left town before finding out any more", Howard said.

"Wow, you kissed a married man? That's so _slutty_ ", said Vince, both admiring and censorious.

"I didn't know he was, alright? I was young and naive", said Howard. "Who did you first kiss?".

"Two girls called Sara and Tara", said Vince. "I think I was around thirteen or fourteen".

" _Two_ girls?" said Howard. "Were you having a baby threesome?".

"No, my mate Craig and I convinced Sara and Tara to have a kissing session with us so we could learn how", said Vince. "I can't remember if I kissed Sara or Tara first, but it was one of them".

"And you never thought of snogging your mate instead?", asked Howard teasingly.

"Nah, he wasn't my type", smiled Vince. "Actually, I never considered it. People would have thought it was well weird if I had two birds to kiss and snogged a bloke instead".

"And what was your first kiss like?", asked Howard.

"Amazing – I think I was just excited to be kissing at all", admitted Vince. "How was Pedro?".

"He smelt of fish a bit", said Howard thoughtfully, "but it was good enough to convince me that I really did fancy men, because I got hard doing it".

"Have you never fancied women at all, Howard?", asked Vince.

"After Tommy died I was pretty messed up, and I kept pestering this poor woman at work called Mrs Gideon. I don't know what I was thinking – losing a man hurt so much I'd try women instead? Or maybe Fossil had put me off men. Honestly, I can't even remember if I fancied her, or just admired her as a person, or had literally picked the only woman I really knew. Anyway, I got absolutely nowhere with her. I expect I would have had a nervous breakdown if she'd actually shown any interest".

"Poor Howard", said Vince sympathetically. "I wish I'd been there – I mean, as I am now, not as a little kid".

"I wasn't ready to be with someone else, Vince", Howard said. "I would have loved having you there as a friend for support, but it would have never gone anywhere. And I probably wouldn't have been a lot of fun. I was very depressed".

"Did you see anyone for it?".

"Yes, Naboo – he was the zoo psychiatrist. He helped me a lot, and actually I still see him professionally twice a month, just to check in".

"Naboo keeps saying that's we're bumming", said Vince. "Does he tell you that's what we should be doing?".

"He's just teasing, Vince", smiled Howard. "I have a tendency to take life too seriously, and Naboo teases me so I learn it's okay to joke around with friends and poke fun at myself".

"So ... do you think you might bum me anyway, maybe? One day?," asked Vince breathlessly. He felt hot under his clothing and his mouth was dry.

"I think that can _definitely_ wait until you're older", said Howard firmly. "That isn't something you want to rush, Vince".

"But do you want to?", asked Vince in a soft voice. He had grabbed onto the edge of Howard's cardigan and was twisting his fingers into it.

"What I want isn't really important", Howard said, giving Vince a little kiss on the forehead. "Because you're young, it's your needs that are important, not mine".

"Howard, Fossil said that you liked ... liked young boys", Vince said. "But your first boyfriend was really old, and your first kiss was a lot older, and your clients were all old, so why did he say that?".

"I'm guessing he might have said that because of a film he caught me watching, at the zoo", said Howard.

"What film was it?", asked Vince curiously.

"It's called _The Sublime Emptiness of Summer_ , and it's by Bengt Klocker; you know, the Danish director who did the film about the polar explorer. It's about two young men, and how they go from being friends to lovers while on holiday from university".

"So just because you watched a movie about university students he said that?", Vince asked.

"Well ... you see, Fossil forced his way into the zookeeper's hut while I was ... er, perhaps enjoying one scene of the film a little too much", Howard blushingly admitted.

"You were wanking over a Danish arthouse movie?", giggled Vince. "Did it get really sexy in that bit?".

"Um well ... they were kissing in the nude", said Howard with a red face. "It probably reminded me that in a lot of ways, I'd missed out on being a young man and having that carefree student life. It was a very private moment, and Fossil had no right to sneak in and watch me".

"He wanted a perv at you, Howard", said Vince wisely. "And if the men in the film were at university, weren't they basically the same age you were, not any younger? So what did Fossil mean?".

"You know Vince, Fossil is a really strange person", said Howard. "I don't know whether he's a pathological liar, or sees the world so subjectively that he doesn't know what reality is. But either way, it's foolish to believe him, and pointless to figure out why he says what he does".

The Miles Davis record came to an end, the needle raised as the vinyl disc spun without sound. Howard got up and carefully put the record back in its sleeve.

"So what did you think of Miles Davis?", he asked.

"I think he's way over my head, and maybe I'll like it when I'm really old, like forty or something", said Vince honestly. "But Howard, can we go to bed for a bit? I feel like a little sleepie".

"'Course we can, Vince", Howard said. "We had an interrupted night, and we've got to have a nap before we go out tonight anyway".

He picked Vince up from the sofa, and carried him to the bedroom.

Maybe they went to sleep straight away.

Maybe they didn't.

(I'll end the suspense right now – they definitely didn't go to sleep straight away).

**********************************************************

"Left", said Naboo, leaning over the back of the front seat of the Kombi to talk to Howard.

"Right", Naboo further instructed. "Then left at this roundabout, and straight on".

"Where are you getting these directions from, Naboo?", Howard asked.

"The tea leaves", said Naboo, showing the cup, whose tea leaves had spelt out _Left_ , _Right_ , _Left at this roundabout_ , then _Straight on_. The tea leaves now spelt _Keep following this road_.

"How do the tea leaves know where to go?", Vince asked interestedly.

"My mate Pete from Dixons fitted the cup with a GPS", replied Naboo. "Then the Shaman Council use magic to send the information to the cup".

"Why can't they just tell you where the meeting place is?", asked Howard. He sounded irritated. "I mean, why can't the tea leaves just spell out _Meet us at The Robin Hood pub_ , or something like that?".

"Someone could psychically hack into the GPS, no problem", explained Naboo. "This way, anyone who hacked us would just get one piece of information, like _Left_. They wouldn't know where we were, or what direction we were travelling".

"We're in Epping Forest", said Howard after a while. "Do you think the meeting place is somewhere around here?".

The tea leaves immediately spelt _Obviously, you plumbag_. It was clear now which shaman was sending them the information.

The tea leaves continued guiding them to a car park near Connaught Water, upon which they were told _Get out and walk_. From here, they stumbled along forest lanes, down dirt tracks, and through underbrush, using Howard's torch to read the tea leaves and see where they were going in the dim of the late November evening.

Bollo picked Naboo up and carried him, while Howard held Vince's hand, and asked him if he was warm enough. Vince gave him a reassuring grin to let him know he was alright.

"I'm used to forests", Vince reminded him. "This is nothing compared to where I grew up. This is just an easy stroll. It's not even proper countryside – we're pretty much still in London".

Indeed, Howard had trouble keeping up with Vince. Vince bounced along, enjoying the fresh air and the cold night, and it was really he who was keeping Howard going. He thought that Vince must be able to see in the dark, like a fox; he was leading Howard so assuredly through the trees and shrubs. Howard kept a tight hold of Vince's hand, for his own sake.

"We'll have to go hiking together some time", Howard panted. "I've always wanted to do the Pennine Way".

"Yeah, genius", smiled Vince. "And don't worry – I'll set a nice slow pace for you". He giggled at Howard's expression.

Howard's watch said it was getting on for seven when they finally arrived at a huge oak tree, and found The Shaman Council seated at a round table beneath it. Bollo swung Naboo down to the ground, and Howard and Vince stood respectfully to one side.

A very tall, bald man with strange eyes stood up and banged on the table with authority.

"May the two hundred and sixty thousandth meeting of the Shaman Council come to order", said the tall man impressively. "Saboo, are you taking the minutes?".

"Oh shut up Dennis, you pompous arse", Saboo replied. "I always do the ruddy minutes".

"I can do the minutes", said Tony Harrison, who was sitting on the table, his bright pink tentacles around him. "I can write anything, as long as someone ties the pen to one of my tentacles with a piece of string, but I freely admit my tentacles do tend tostick to the paper, which causes a bit of a kerfuffle".

"You can't spell for shit, either", Saboo said.

Tony Harrison said that was an outrage, and Saboo was a slag, and the pair of them bickered uselessly for several minutes. In the end, a green-faced witch named Dianne agreed to do the minutes. She sat with pen poised, waiting expectantly for someone to say anything worth writing down.

"Without wasting any more time, I call upon Saboo and Tony Harrison to submit their report", said Dennis. "Saboo and Tony have been assigned to the case of the disappearing familiars, and they have invited as their guests this evening Naboo and his familiar Bollo, and two ... er, humans, are they? Two humans with information pertaining to the case".

Saboo came forward, scowling at everyone, and tossing back his head so that the feather in his hat bobbed indignantly. Tony Harrison remained on the table, but inched slightly closer to the edge to show that he had the floor.

Howard had expected Saboo and Tony to argue, shout, talk over each other, waffle a lot, and generally be hopeless at submitting a report – the shamans had struck him as incompetent and unprofessional, although this Dennis chap seemed to have the idea, and Dianne looked as if she knew what was what.

However, Saboo turned out to have rather a gift for exposition, quickly giving everyone the key details, beginning with the fact that the shamans' familiars were disappearing, always at night in the East End. He made a point of mentioning that Howard had been volunteering his time every night to patrol the East End.

"And then I received information from Naboo that his familiar Bollo was friends with the son – sorry, the _foster_ -son, rather – of The Lord of the Forest".

There was a bit of excited whispering from the listening shamans, who seemed surprised by this news.

“Can this friend of Bollo step forward, please?”, commanded Dennis in his deep voice.

Howard gave Vince's hand a supportive squeeze, but he stepped forward with confidence.

“Yeah, hi there”, Vince said. “I'm Vince Noir, and my foster-father Bryan, sometimes known as The Ferry Man, is Lord of the Forest, and really knows a lot about animals. After Bollo told me about the shamans' familiars going missing, I waited until Bryan phoned me, and then asked him if he had ever heard of anything like that before”.

“And what did your foster-father say?”, Dennis asked kindly.

“He said there had been problems in the forest before with someone named Baboo Yagu causing animals to disappear. Bryan made him sound like some sort of demon, and he said he had green skin, and looked like a man witch”.

“Excuse me”, said Dianne, putting down her pen, “but could we append some sort of note that being a green-skinned witch has no bearing on someone's guilt or innocence, and that there is no correlation between green skin and committing crimes?”.

“Of course”, said Dennis glibly. “I'd like it placed in the minutes that the Shaman Council promotes diversity, and encourages tolerance to all, regardless of skin colour”.

“Well, it's not that diverse”, said Dianne. “I mean there's only two female shamans, and I'm the only one with green skin”. She shared a wry look with a yellow-haired woman wearing glasses.

“We're committed to the principles of tolerance and diversity”, said Dennis firmly. “And we support them one hundred percent, in principle”.

“But not in practice”, muttered Dianne.

“Now Dianne, you will have a chance to put forward your views on quotas for the Shaman Council another time”, said Dennis. “Thank you for your testimony, foster-son of the Ferry Man. You may step down now”.

Vince was reminded of the way Howard had made them stick to the topic when they had their own meeting, and thought Howard and Dennis were a bit alike in some ways. He thought Howard would make a good council leader too.

“Can I interject here?”, Saboo asked a little sarcastically. “Since this _is_ my report. Anyway, after Tony Harrison and I were put on the case, we made every effort to locate this so-called Baboo Yagu, and based on descriptions provided by the humans, were able to find and take a photo of him”.

He handed out copies of the photo to everyone, while Tony Harrison explained that he was the one who took the picture.

“He looks most villainous”, said Dennis. “I mean, not because he has green skin. Just his general demeanour”.

“You can see just by looking at him that he's an absolute devil who will stop at nothing”, said an old shaman with long white hair.

“Utterly fearsome and wicked”, pronounced Dianne. “A dark stain on the green race”.

“Are we all agreed that we must stop this Baboo Yagu before he places more of our familiars in danger?”, asked Saboo, and received a unanimous vote in the affirmative. The unanimous vote was recorded in the minutes.

“I saw we wait not a moment longer, but strike immediately”, said Dennis, thumping his fist on the table.

“No, not if Vince is coming”, said Howard. “He has school tomorrow, and almost every night this week is a school night”.

“Friday?”, suggested Dennis.

“Vince has to work on Saturday morning”, said Howard firmly. “It's vitally important his routine isn't interfered with. Human teenagers need a lot of sleep in order to function”.

“Oh, for pity's sake”, said Saboo in a temper. “What about next Saturday, then?”.

It was agreed that they would go after Baboo Yagu on Saturday night, and convene in the East End at nine. Saboo and Tony Harrison were chosen for the mission, and Naboo, Bollo, Howard, and Vince immediately volunteered. Dennis would be the general, co-ordinating their movements from a control centre, and he nominated Dianne to be his second-in-command.

“What about Kirk?”, said Saboo, gesturing to a small blond boy who looked about six.

“Kirk is not to be trusted on _any_ mission. Kirk is a violent and sexually deranged being from the Fourth Dimension”, said Dennis.

“Kirk, is it true that you are both violent and sexually deranged?”, asked Tony Harrison.

“Yes”, said Kirk, with blank, baleful eyes.

“Wait a minute, wouldn't violence actually be helpful in this situation?”, asked Saboo.

“Yes”, said Kirk, in a way which sent shivers down your spine at his fiendishness.

Howard and Vince looked at Kirk, and decided he must be one of those Fourth Dimension shamans who grew up backwards, and was no doubt much older than he appeared.

“Oh alright, Kirk can go as well, but I personally think it's a mistake”, said Dennis. “But that's _all_ – too many people, and the whole mission will get completely out of hand”.

“It's nearly eight, and I have to take Vince back to his boarding house now”, said Howard.

“Alright then. Next Saturday at nine pm, Saboo, Tony, Naboo, Bollo, the two humans, and Kirk will meet in Brick Lane, while I will co-ordinate with Dianne's able assistance. We are relying on you to rid us of Baboo Yagu, and we thank you for your courage in accepting this dangerous mission. The meeting is now dismissed, and there will be drinks and er, other substances served for anyone who would like to stay and socialise”.

*************************************************************

When Howard parked the van outside the boarding house, there was a strange feeling among all of them that they had committed themselves to a perilous adventure, and were now more than just friends, but brothers in arms who must risk their own lives to protect one another, come what may.

“Well, gentleman”, said Howard. “We meet again on Saturday night, and then we will finally get the chance to stop Baboo Yagu”.

“I got a bad feeling about this”, said Bollo gloomily.

“When _don't_ you got a bad feeling about something?”, retorted Naboo.

Howard gave an embarrassed glance at Naboo and Bollo, then held Vince close and kissed him on the lips. Bollo growled under his breath, and Naboo looked amused.

“I'll email you tonight, Vince”, Howard said. “Have a good sleep, little man”.

He looked defiantly at Bollo and Naboo, and kissed Vince again; a softer, more lingering one this time.

“Bye Howard”, said Vince. “Thanks for taking me to the meeting, and for … everything … today. And hey, we ended up going for a drive together after all”.

He gave Howard a swift kiss on the cheek, jumped out of the van, and waved before running inside. Howard had a terrible feeling that he was leading Vince into danger, then he sternly told himself he was getting as bad as Bollo.

“Okay, next stop Dalston”, said Howard, as he started the van up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard's choice of and comments on the Miles Davis record are partially taken from a column Julian wrote for "The Quietus" on his favourite albums. Like Howard, Julian went to a Miles Davis concert in Manchester with his father. That would have been in April 1989 – and according to the timeline given in the story, just before Tommy disappeared. 
> 
> “The Sublime Emptiness of Summer” first appeared in my story “Some Entirely Unremarkable Evening”. Howard got aroused watching the film with Vince asleep on his lap, and presumably would have masturbated if Vince wasn't there. In this story, you find out the director's name, and that he has made at least one other film about the emptiness of a season. I imagine that Klocker made a quartet of “empty season” films. 
> 
> Now that he's older, Noel does listen to jazz music sometimes and likes Miles Davis, although he claims he's too shy to discuss it with Julian. 
> 
> The Robin Hood is a traditional pub on the edge of Epping Forest in Essex with a long history as a popular meeting place.
> 
> The oak tree the shamans meet under might be Grimston's Oak, a local landmark. If so, it's about 15 minutes walk from the car park at Connaught Water, and the car park is around half an hour's drive from Dalston. Saboo has given them a difficult route, it's dark and cold, and Vince and Bollo set Howard a challenging pace – it's not really that hard to get to normally. Plus there could be magic guards placed around it making it much more of a slog, especially for Howard, who isn't quite as imbued with magic as the other three.
> 
> This is the 260 000th meeting of this particular Shaman Council. If they met every week, that would mean the council had been going for five thousand years, starting around 3000 BC. That's about the age of Stonehenge, which may have been built by shamans, attracted the shamans, been interpreted as an invitation to them, or impressive enough to convince them that Britain was now advanced enough to require a shaman council of its own.


	16. Uninvited Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ups and downs of Leroy's love life, a separation and reunion, and an uninvited guest throws a spanner in the works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're the uninvited guest who stays till the end  
> I know you've got a problem that the devil sends  
> You think they're talking 'bout you, but you don't know who  
> I'll be scraping their lives from the sole of my shoe tonight 
> 
> Bring It On Down – Oasis 
> 
> Yeah, I look out for him, and pretend I don't need him, but I do. ~ Julian Barratt 
> 
> Now he really goes for it, and ravishes me. ~ Noel Fielding

Vince was in a state of nervous excitement when he got back to the boarding house after the Shaman Council meeting. He had embarked on a strange, magical adventure, and his blood was singing after being in a forest at night – even in such a tame, suburban forest as Epping. He took a deep breath to calm himself before going into his room, not wanting to alert Leroy to the fact that something was up.

But when he got there, he found Leroy lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, and clearly in no state to be alerted to anything.

"Leroy, what's happened?", cried Vince, running to him and sitting next to him on the bed. He had a vague fear the green-skinned devil had somehow attacked Leroy to send Vince a warning.

"Clare chucked me", said Leroy in a voice devoid of all emotion.

"What? That's mental! Why?", demanded Vince, taking one of Leroy's hands. It hung cold and nerveless between Vince's own, and he rubbed the fingers as if trying to bring Leroy back to life.

"She said I was too young for her. Said she needs someone more mature", Leroy went on, in the same expressionless tone.

"Well, you're well shot of her, mate", said Vince. "You deserve someone better". He felt Leroy's forehead – it was cold and clammy.

"I'll never get another girlfriend now I've been chucked", moaned Leroy. "All the girls will think there's something's wrong with me".

"Leroy, you're freezing, get under the covers", commanded Vince, fluffing the duvet on top on Leroy, and getting a spare blanket for him. "And when did you last eat or drink anything?".

"Dunno. Did we eat dinner before we went to the pub last night?", asked Leroy listlessly.

"What? You haven't eaten for more than twenty-four hours?", asked Vince sharply. "You're probably in shock, and your blood sugar levels must be all over the place. Stay here, and don't move".

He dashed out in search of sustenance, thinking of what Howard or Mrs Andrews would do if they'd found Leroy in this state. There was an urn in the common room where residents could help themselves to tea and coffee – he made Leroy the strongest cup of tea he could, and put three heaped spoons of sugar in it.

Then he went to the kitchen. There were plates of fairy cakes ready for supper, and he begged Wendy, his favourite of the kitchen staff, to make Leroy something to eat.

It had been roast chicken for Sunday dinner, and Wendy made Leroy a round of sandwiches from the leftovers. She added a little custard cup that had been the pudding, and warned Vince not to stuff Leroy with food if he hadn't eaten all day.

"Be careful love – he'll be sick if you give him too much at once. Just give him a little bit at a time, and let him rest between mouthfuls".

Vince thanked her with his most grateful adult-pleasing smile, his big blue eyes shining at her until Wendy thought Vince Noir was the nicest boy she'd ever met. Kind, too, and with a better head on his shoulders than people gave him credit for.

He came back with a tray filled with food and drink, and made Leroy sit up, giving him bites of chicken sandwich a little at a time. He looked better after the sandwich, so Vince dipped pieces of fairy cake in custard, and let him eat those, very slowly.

"Thanks, Vince", said Leroy, holding his hot cup of tea. His cheeks were looking closer to their usual rosy hue.

"That's alright", said Vince. "But don't scare me like that again, yeah?".

"So enough about me", said Leroy. "What did you and Howard get up to today?".

"Oh ... we slept in late, and Howard made a big breakfast. And we listened to some jazz, then went for a drive in Epping Forest", Vince said.

"Have you been smoking weed?", asked Leroy, wrinkling his nose.

"Well, when we went for a drive, we went with Howard's friends, and one of them smokes weed, I think", said Vince. "I might've got the smell off him. I mean, not that he was smoking, but he had the smell on his clothes".

"Does he have a dog?", Leroy asked. "You've got black hair all over your coat".

"Uh yeah ... it's a big black thing", agreed Vince. "Really well trained and that".

"Seems as if girls don't really go for guys in big frilly white blouses and make-up", said Leroy, brooding on his blighted love life.

"That was just for a stage show. And hey, we won a prize for it!", said Vince.

"We won as a novelty act", said Leroy bitterly. "We were basically a joke".

"I bet that's what Clare told you", said Vince shrewdly. "How did she come to chuck you, anyway? She seemed okay at the Folk Night".

"We went back to her flat after the pub, and I couldn't find Harriet's phone number. It was driving me absolutely mental, and Clare started ripping into me, for getting so worked up over losing Harriet's number".

"So ... Clare got jealous?".

"Yeah, but the thing is, I know exactly where I put her number. It was in my wallet, wedged in between my student card and my Barclays card. There's no way it could have fallen out, and we'd come straight from the pub, so there was no time to lose it. It was the fact that I just knew I couldn't have lost it that was making me go mental".

"You didn't accuse Clare of taking it, did you?", asked Vince.

"Of course not, I just asked her if she'd seen it, and if she'd looked in my wallet by any chance", huffed Leroy. "If you lose something, you ask other people if they've seen it, don't you?".

"Um", said Vince diplomatically.

"And then she went wild at me, and started saying all this mental shit about Harriet. I mean, she even got jealous because Harriet's a folk singer, and I want to be a folk singer, and Harriet said we might catch up at the folk festival. Can you believe anyone would get jealous over _folk music_?".

"Yeah, getting jealous over folk, that's really stupid", said Vince. "Harriet's quite good-looking though, isn't she?".

"She is, yeah", admitted Leroy, "and Clare got a bit spiteful about her, even though I kept saying she was just as pretty as Harriet, and I only wanted to see Harriet so we could sing together, or maybe even write songs together".

"Mm", said Vince. "Well, girls can get a bit funny about stuff like that".

"But Vince – I just remembered! Harriet gave her number to you as well", said Leroy in sudden delight. "You can give it to me".

"Oh wow, I'm really sorry Leroy", Vince said. "It's really weird, but I don't have Harriet's number either. It's like it just never existed".

"Unbelievable", said Leroy. "I'm starting to think there was a curse on that bloody phone number. It's stuffed up my love life, and made me realise girls are a bit mental. I'm going to be single for the rest of my life, and now I can't even contact the girl I wanted as a music partner".

"Never mind, you've still got me", said Vince, hugging Leroy. "If you don't me want me as a glam-folk partner, at least you've still got me as a mate".

"Yeah, cheers", said Leroy. He did seem comforted, though.

************************************************************

 _From:spacebetweenthenotes@jazzmail.com_  
_Sent: Sun 19/11/95 9.21 pm_  
_Subject: Saturday plans_

_Dear Vince,_

_I hope you got home in plenty of time to get to bed at a reasonable hour, and that you'd had enough to eat. After the big breakfast we had, I'm afraid we just sort of picked at bits of food, didn't we?_

_I'm sorry Vince, but I don't think I'll be able to see you again until the weekend. I've got rehearsal on Monday, on Tuesday I've got to deejay at Camden Palace with N, on Wednesday the band are playing at The Blue Aubergine, on Thursday I'm deejaying at a teacher's training college, and on Friday I've got to deejay at the roller disco. Taking on B's deejaying gigs as well as my own jobs is proving time-consuming. The only good part is that N says I can step down the patrols now we've spoken to the council._

_On Saturday I'll pick you up at 1 pm from the boarding house, when you've finished work. That way we can rest and spend time together until we all meet up at the designated location. You and I will take N and B with us._

_I worry that I have got you into something dangerous, Vince, but I will do everything I can to keep you safe. You must remember we are doing something noble, and I know you are an extremely strong and brave person, otherwise I would never allow you to be involved._

_Don't be frightened, little man, but trust in our powers not just to survive, but to overcome. Ridding the world of evil is a thankless task, yet one that all good people must be prepared to do when it is asked of us. At these times of peril, the ones we love become ever more precious, so I find myself thinking of you constantly._

_All my love,_

_Howard xxx_

_From:vince_noir@claptonartcollege.ac.uk_  
_Sent: Mon 20/11/95 4.35 pm_  
_Subject: RE: Saturday plans_

_hi howard, don't worry evrything will b fine. i know u got a lot on i'm just looking f/ward 2 c-ing u again. leroy's gf chucked him so he needs my suport @ the moment anyway. it will all work out on sat i bet. It's u + me all the way we're a team remembur? I think of u all the time 2. i <3 u. luv ya, vince xxx_

**********************************************************************

Vince got home late from college, unhappy that he'd have to go the whole week without Howard, but elated at the affectionate email he'd received from him – Howard had even signed it with his real name, and added a row of crossed kisses. He'd also made it clear that he didn't see Vince as a stupid kid or a delicate girl, but as someone worthy to fight beside: strong and brave, that's how he saw Vince.

Leroy had been miserable all day, and Vince wasn't surprised that when he got to their room, Leroy was sitting at his desk, staring at nothing.

"Alright, Leroy?", asked Vince.

"Clare found someone older and more mature", he said mournfully. "She's going out with Martin now. He's nearly twenty".

"Martin from the boarding house? He's a right prat", said Vince. "I suppose it was Clare's idea we all hang out together in his room that night".

"It seems so obvious now, don't it? Delia's going out with his room mate Patrick, and all", Leroy added.

"I'm glad Delia found someone she likes", Vince said. "She's picked someone really good-looking, just like Clare said".

Patrick was certainly very handsome, in a pale, poetic sort of way, but didn't seem like the sort to treat a girl badly, so hopefully Clare's gloomy prognostications about Delia's taste in men would turn out to be only half-right.

"It's going to be well awkward, having Clare and Delia coming over all the time to see their boyfriends", Leroy complained.

"Nah – the boarding house is non-smoking. Clare wouldn't put up with that", said Vince. "I bet Martin and Patrick will go to their flat instead".

Leroy didn't seem greatly consoled by this.

Despite his fretting that no girl would ever want him again after being chucked, to his surprise Leroy found that girls at school were throwing themselves at him. The fact he'd been out with an older girl from the college gave him a certain glamour, and those girls who still hoped to get close to the charming Vince Noir thought that going out with Leroy would get them a step nearer to their goal.

"I don't really get it", Leroy said helplessly to Vince. "Girls are all over me now. I haven't even said anything about ending it with Clare, but somehow they all seem to know about it".

"I always said you were going to drive the girls nuts", said Vince, amused that Leroy had swiftly gone from being 'chucked' by Clare to 'ending it' with her.

"I don't really know what to do", admitted Leroy. "It sounds really good having heaps of girls after you, but I feel if I pick one, then the others will get the hump with me. And I don't know which girl to pick – I mean these are girls that have been in our class for more than a year; none of them are that exciting".

"You don't have to pick _any_ girl", said Vince. "You don't _have_ to have a girlfriend, just because girls want to go out with you. And you're forgetting there's a whole other class below us – there's first year girls who just started here two or three months ago. They're probably gagging over you, but too shy to say anything".

"Yeah, some of those girls are alright", Leroy said thoughtfully. "There's one that's really cute, actually. You think she'd be interested?".

"Give it a go", Vince encouraged him. "You never know unless you try".

Vince's relationship advice was usually sound, and in this case he was spot on. The very next day a slightly stunned Leroy told him that the cute first year was now his girlfriend.

"I mean, I didn't really know what to say, so I just walked up to Sally and started talking to her, and she seemed really ... really glad that I came over. And we ended up having lunch together, and I asked if she wanted to go to the movies on Saturday night, and she said yes".

"Good for you", said Vince, glad that Leroy was going to be too busy on Saturday to wonder what Vince was up to. "Have a great time with Sally".

"She's really pretty, don't you think?", asked Leroy, pointing Sally out. "She looks a little bit like Harriet".

Sally was flaxen-haired and had large blue eyes, a freckled little nose, and a broad friendly smile. Vince decided she didn't look completely _un_ like Harriet. Maybe it was her clothes.

"A bit, yeah", he said vaguely. "She looks like a sweet person".

" _So_ sweet", said Leroy enthusiastically, and launched into what Vince was to discover was to be the first of many lengthy monologues about Sally and how wonderful she was. He tried to be patient, remembering that Leroy had had to listen to him banging on about more than thirty girlfriends the previous year. The least Vince could do was listen to Leroy talk about just one.

********************************************************************

Vince walked back from work on Saturday, reflecting that it had been a difficult week. The teachers were piling homework on them as the end of term approached, he hadn't seen Howard at all, and Leroy was absolutely hopeless. He spent all his free time wandering around college holding hands with Sally and gazing drippily into her eyes, and when she wasn't there sighed and mooned into space, or burbled endlessly about Sally and her long list of talents and stellar qualities. He had even shown Vince a song he was writing about Sally where _blue eyes_ rhymed with _blue skies_ , and _freckled nose_ with _petalled rose_.

His one solace was that Howard had emailed him every day, sometimes twice a day. They were loving messages of encouragement that made Vince's heart skip a beat, but they also contained jokes that made him grin; funny things that Howard had seen that day, or thought about. He shared with Vince his little problems and grievances: troubles with Horace at rehearsal; a humiliating deejaying gig in Camden where the crowd had booed at him, and Naboo had been cross that he'd tried Weather Report on them while Naboo was out the back getting stoned.

Vince spent every lunch time eating in the computer lab while he read Howard's latest missive, and replied to it. Vince worried that he couldn't write as cleverly as Howard; he must think Vince was really thick. But at least he could let Howard know that he was thinking of him too, that he cared for him, that he couldn't wait to see him again. He sent a few jokes as well (Leroy was a rich source of humour at the moment), and did his best to make Howard feel better.

_i know horace is being a pain, but he sounds rlly depresed, Vince wrote; culd u ask naboo 2 help him when things calm down a bit?_

Another day he said: _oh wow i wuld luv 2 go 2 camden palace i am so jelous they r prbly not intelektul enuf 4 weather report tho. howard culd u eva get me in 2 camden palace? my dream is 2 b the prince of camden._

The best day of all was when Vince shot off a reply to Howard's latest email, and received one back immediately. It was very short, just letting Vince know that his email had made Howard laugh, which was good because he'd been feeling sad and worried, and was missing Vince so badly. He had signed it, _With every ounce of love in my heart, Yours, Howard xxxxxxxxxxx_. Vince printed off all Howard's emails so he could keep them, and read them again and again.

Vince had reached the corner from the boarding house where the phone box was, and saw Howard was already out the front, leaning on the van, waiting for him. How early did Howard arrive to pick him up?, Vince wondered, and then he was running down the street towards Howard, his feet and his heart flying at the same pace.

When he reached Howard, he held out his arms for a hug, and Howard picked him and swung him around with a laugh, kissing Vince on the cheek as he did so. They both stood there grinning, and if Leroy had been there, he would have said they were gazing at each other drippily.

"Go and go get your stuff, little man", Howard said fondly. "I'll be right here".

****************************************************************

Vince could hardly believe he was back in the van with Howard. He kept looking up at Howard and smiling, and Howard would look down at him and give him a shifty little glance before forcing his eyes back on the road. Howard had an old jacket on the seat between them, and he drove one-handed so that he and Vince could hold hands under the jacket, their fingers intertwined. That made it seem like the most delightful secret, one that was making Vince feel almost weightless with happiness – as if he could drift away into the clouds, towards the far horizon.

When they got to Howard's flat, Howard barely waited to close the door before his lips were on Vince's, kissing him deeply, hungrily. Vince pushed himself harder into Howard's arms, trying to snuggle closer and closer against his chest.

"Bedroom", said Howard, picking Vince up and carrying him. "Now".

He didn't carry Vince in his arms as he usually did, but over his shoulder in a fireman's lift, his hands on Vince's thighs and bum. This wasn't the most romantic thing Howard had ever said or done, and certainly wasn't considerate or gentlemanly. There was a feeling of being dragged back to Howard's cave about it; it was rough and graceless. But Vince loved it. He giggled at being slung around like he weighed nothing; Howard was so strong. If Howard desperately needed Vince after a week apart, Vince felt the same way.

There was no more being gentle and asking Vince at every stage if he was okay with what was happening. Howard stripped off Vince's clothes while unbuttoning his own shirt and trousers, and pushed Vince into bed, kissing him the whole time, and kicking his shoes and socks off as he went. Howard was on top of Vince for several hot, sweaty, sticky minutes, his mouth biting against his neck. He groaned, Vince called out Howard's name; they both got even stickier.

"I'm sorry Vince", Howard said, holding Vince tight. "I just couldn't stop. I've been going insane without you".

"Couldn't stop either", smiled Vince. "I reckon we both needed that". He tugged his fingers through Howard's soft, messy curls and luxuriated in having Howard's scent all over him.

"I'll get us something to eat", Howard said, getting out of bed and throwing on an old dressing gown.

He came back with a tray that had buttered bread rolls, cheese, pears, and a bottle of water on it, as well as a warm moist cloth to clean Vince with.

"Don't drop any crumbs", Howard said sternly, handing Vince a napkin. It was, in fact, the first time in his life Howard had ever allowed food in the bedroom.

"Been missing you all week", Vince said, eating a pear. "Thought I was going mental most of the time".

"Yes, I found it very difficult as well", said Howard, topping his bread roll with cheese and munching. "The only thing keeping me sane was getting your emails every day".

"I loved your emails, Howard", Vince said. "I kept every single one. I love that you signed them, and put kisses on them".

Howard dropped a kiss on Vince's cheek. "Yours were so comforting. Everything that felt like such a heavy burden became easier to bear seeing it through your eyes. You have such a gift for making people's lives lighter and sunnier".

They spent the rest of the afternoon talking, and sleeping, and finding pleasure in each other's arms. They did not discuss what was before them that night: perhaps by unspoken agreement that if this was to be their last day together, they wanted to enjoy it to the full. Like any soldiers, they were making merry today in the full knowledge they may not survive to see the morrow.

*****************************************************************

Howard made them a simple dinner of tender grilled steak, jacket potato topped with natural yoghurt, and artichokes roasted in olive oil, lemon juice, and garlic. He told Vince it would give them plenty of energy, be easy to digest, and quick to clean up after.

As well as getting the dishes washed, Howard insisted on doing the hoovering, dusting, changing the sheets on the bed, and mopping the kitchen floor. Vince protested this sudden domestic urge, but Howard said:

"We've got a long, hard night ahead of us, and we don't want to come home after it to a dirty flat. And we _will_ be coming home, Vince – both of us".

Howard made sure they were both warmly dressed, and packed spare coats and scarves, raincoats, a thermos of tea, a thermos of hot chocolate, a bottle of water, a packet of oat biscuits, and a bag of Raspberry Bootlaces for Vince.

He wouldn't put them in the picnic basket – that was for their future – but packed them into old shopping bags and put them in the front of the van on Vince's side. Howard already had a pocket knife, first aid kit, torch, matches, ball of string, whistle, and compass in the glove box, which he carried at all times.

They hit their first snag when they got to Naboo's flat. Bollo let them in, saying that he had a bad feeling about whatever was happening. They had to agree, as they could hear a familiar babyish voice upstairs.

"... and technically, you’re not a peeping tom if it’s one of your relatives. More tea, Naboo?".

"Oh no", groaned Howard. "Fossil has the worst timing".

Sure enough, there was Fossil in the same too-small powder blue safari suit Vince remembered, cosying up to Naboo, and sipping from a cup of tea. He looked up when they entered.

"Howard, you disgustingly sexy pervert. And your darling little boyfriend, Vincey. You know, I heard a rumour that Vincey wants to be the Prince of Camden ... ooh, the little Princey Vincey!".

"How dare you look through my private emails!", Howard shouted, while Vince gave Fossil a dirty look.

"Well, you really should change your password from _coltrane=god_ ", advised Fossil. "You've had that for at least a year now".

"Anyway, you can just bugger off now, Fossil. Vince and I have to give Naboo and Bollo a lift", Howard said.

"Gee, Naboo and I were just getting better acquainted", cooed Fossil, rubbing his nipples. "Tell you what Naboo, _I'll_ give you a lift. My motorcycle is right outside".

"No, we'd rather go with Howard, thanks", said Naboo.

"Oh, it's no trouble at _all_ ", simpered Fossil. "You can hop into the sidecar, Naboo, and Bollo sweetheart, you can ride behind me. No getting fresh now, Bollo".

"Uh yeah ... the thing is, we were all going to do something together", said Howard. "Just the four of us".

"You're _always_ leaving me out", wailed Fossil. "Just for once, won't you take me on one of your little adventures? Pretty please with sugar on top?". He gazed beseechingly at Naboo and Howard, tears in his eyes.

"Yeah alright", said Naboo, apparently deciding it would be quicker to to let Fossil come with them than to argue all night with him.

"Oh Naboo – thank you, thank you!", gushed Fossil.

He gave Naboo a sloppy open-mouthed kiss in appreciation, Naboo making unhappy noises that sounded like, "Geroff me, you psycho!".

Fossil beamed happily at them all.

"So is this, like, a double date or something? Are we going to have an orgy at the end? I always thought that's what you all did together when you went off on adventures".

Like Bollo, Howard was having a very bad feeling about this. Vince was in a silent fury, and Naboo looked as if his feelings about it were the very worst of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My female characters are quite often named after songs. Sally is a name common in a lot of songs, but I was especially thinking of the Sally in Oasis' "Don't Look Back in Anger", and "Sally Cinnamon" by The Stone Roses. Leroy's former girlfriend Clare was named after the song by folk band Fairport Convention. Harriet is from "Harriet's Song" by folk trio Peter, Paul, and Mary. Sara and Tara, Vince's first kisses, are named for "Sara" by Fleetwood Mac, and "Tara" by Roxy Music: in real life, Tara is the name of one of Bryan Ferry's sons. There are songs about Wendys, but I wasn't really thinking of any – just a name from the right era that sounded kind and friendly.


	17. What's in the Box?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fossil plays a key role in the mission to take on Baboo Yagu. Howard and Vince must work through a past they never had so they can have a future that really is. And the ever-gallant Howard meets a damsel in distress ... Warning for mild horror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's in your head and in your heart  
> It's everywhere you can see  
> C'mon kids and smash the lock  
> Reach within and find the key  
> Crawl inside and leave the rest behind  
> C'mon now, look in the box and see whatcha got
> 
> What's in the Box? - The Boo Radleys 
> 
> The more I do this, the more I realise that chemistry like we have is quite odd. Our styles are similar but come from a different place, so they fit together quite well. ~ Julian Barratt
> 
> Everybody could relate to the fact that Julian and I were both very different, but that we needed and loved each other. ~ Noel Fielding

"Are we all present?", asked Dennis officiously when they assembled in Brick Lane, breathing in the rich, spicy smell of curry, which wafted in the air from all directions.

Howard put his arm around Vince as if to keep him warm, although he could tell that Vince was in a mood about Fossil inviting himself along. He'd sulked all the way to the meeting place.

"I'm here – that's very important", went on Dennis. "Dianne – well done. Saboo and Tony Harrison. Kirk? Where's Kirk?".

"He went on a sexually violent rampage across the East End", said Tony Harrison breezily.

"It was more of a violently sexual rampage, actually", said Saboo, who was carrying Tony Harrison.

"Well, I did warn you", said Dennis. "I want it put down officially that Kirk is not to go on any more missions, due to his violent sexual derangement. Okay, no Kirk. Naboo and Bollo – good. Two humans - ".

"We do have names", grumped Howard.

"Wait a minute – _three_ humans", frowned Dennis. "Who's this extra one, Naboo?".

"That's Fossil", said Naboo glumly. "He came with us and he wouldn't go away and we couldn't get rid of him".

"Wow, who are all these guys?", burbled Fossil happily. "They look and smell really weird. Are they part of the adventure? Are we having an orgy with them?".

"You wish", snarled Saboo.

"Let's see how many poppers I got, sunshine", leered Tony Harrison. "Then we'll find out".

"Now, what are we supposed to do with this spare one?", grumbled Dennis. "He can't be any use to us – he seems a bit simple to me, even for a human".

Howard opened his mouth in indignation, but before he could say anything, Dianne interjected.

"I do not believe that the magical forces of the Divine Multiverse would ever send us something of no value", she said firmly.

"Oh, yes they ruddy would", muttered Saboo. "They sent me that pinky wafer Tony Harrison".

"Shut it, you nonce", Tony Harris responded, briefly if inelegantly.

"Furthermore", said Dianne, rather more loudly, "the simple are often the most useful of all, because they are not limited by the false doctrines of a cynical intellect. In fact, if I may refer to my own treatise on human familiars - ".

The other shamans all groaned loudly, but Dianne pushed on determinedly. "My research has indicated that humans can make excellent familiars and mediums, and time and again it has been demonstrated that the more simple they are, the better".

Ignoring the irritated eye-rolls of the other shamans, Dianne added, "If I may be permitted to test this ... Fossil, did you say? This er, Fossil may turn out to have unexpected abilities. Is there something which interests him, some way that we may get through to him?".

"Hey, this lady has green skin", noted Fossil. "Does she has a disease or something? I don't wanna catch anything gross off her".

"He's interested in Howard", said Vince, a trifle vindictively. "He's obsessed with my boyfriend, that's Howard there, with the moustache. He follows him around, he spies on him, he breaks into his flat to snoop around. Fossil would do anything to know stuff about Howard".

"Thank you, that is very helpful, human child", said Dianne graciously. She then turned to Fossil, and employing the voice of a primary school teacher who's become a mesmerist, said, "Now, Fossil, look into my eyes and tell me what you see".

"A scary looking green witch", said Fossil in a monotone, as if he'd fallen under her spell.

"Look deeper, Fossil", Dianne commanded. "For your words may aid the human known as Howard".

"I told ya, I see a scary looking green witch", Fossil insisted. "With a top hat and a big polo mint around one eye, and long white hair, and a big nose".

The others now watched intently, because Fossil had never been told about the green demon, and yet he seemed able to describe him perfectly.

"That's very good, Fossil", said Dianne warmly, almost seductively. "Now, can you tell us where the scary green witch is? Can you see his surroundings? It will help Howard if you can".

Fossil closed his eyes, and looked as if he might be going to swoon.

"I think he's going into a trance", said Howard, who had been in a few jazz trances himself, and knew the symptoms.

"It's dark ... dark ... trapped. Brick Lane". Everyone looked around Brick Lane nervously, as if they were just about to be ambushed. "Follow the brick lane ... under your feet, down underground. It's so dark. Howard knows, he knows the crazy maze. Trapped in a box", moaned Fossil as if on the verge of hysteria, then he collapsed on the ground.

"Very, very good, Fossil", soothed Dianne, helping him up. "You were very helpful, but you must rest now, my dear one".

"So what did all that mean?", asked Dennis interestedly.

"It meant nothing", said Saboo sourly. "The ravings of a cheese-faced loon, probably been at Tony Harrison's mushrooms".

"I think he might have been talking about the sewers", said Howard awkwardly. "You know, they're brick and underground".

"But he said you know them", objected Vince.

"Actually, I do know the sewers", said Howard. "I worked as a sanitation inspector during my gap year, and I know the London sewerage system like the back of my hand".

"You said you travelled around France and Spain", Vince reminded him.

"Travel in Europe is expensive", shrugged Howard. "I had to work in my gap year to earn enough money to actually have a gap year".

"So how long were you in Europe?", asked Vince. "I mean, you had enough time to snog a bunch of blokes".

"Can you get off Howard's bollocks? You sound like a jealous wife, yeah?", said Naboo to Vince, who glowered at him, but shut up.

"Hmm, well this is an interesting line of thought Dianne has given us", said Dennis diplomatically. "There doesn't seem to be any real evidence that this er ... Fossil thing is right, however"".

Dianne looked angry, but didn't say anything.

"I propose that Saboo and Tony Harrison cover the north and west side of the East End, and Naboo and Bollo cover the south and east side of the area", continued Dennis. "If there is any sighting of the green demon, you must contact me or Dianne at base camp, which is right here in Brick Lane. Don't confront him yourself, but use the walkie-talkies you've been given to communicate".

Saboo, Tony Harrison, Naboo, and Bollo nodded seriously, the last two waving goodbye to Howard and Vince, and set off in the directions Dennis told them to.

"Now, to test Dianne's theory, and to cover all possibilities, no matter how far-fetched, the three humans should go down into the sewers to search for the green demon", Dennis said, in a voice which suggested he considered this a wonderful treat for them.

Howard and Vince looked horrified at being lumbered with Fossil, but Dianne interjected.

"I disagree, Dennis. I want to keep Fossil with me, in case he has other messages for us. He may prove himself extremely useful. And I would like to continue testing him".

"Oh, very well", said Dennis irritably. "Mind if I use your van as a base ... er, the bigger human?".

"My name is Howard", Howard said firmly.

"Er, yes ... um, Howard, is it? I'd like to commandeer your van", Dennis said, also sounding very firm. Bossy, Vince called it.

"Anything to help the mission, sir", said Howard, respectfully giving Dennis the Boy Scout three-finger salute.

"Yes, well ... that's very good of you, er .... Howard", said Dennis, who wasn't used to having followers who obeyed his orders, wanted to help, called him sir, offered him respect, or saluted him. He thought it was a very nice change, and gave Howard a slightly rusty smile.

Howard opened the van for Dennis and Dianne, but was careful to keep the keys himself. He warned them not to leave it unattended even for a moment, and sighed as Dennis and Dianne immediately helped themselves to the oat biscuits and thermos of hot chocolate without asking. Fossil sat at Dianne's feet, getting fragments of oat biscuit any time he exhibited good behaviour. He obsequiously licked her hand in thanks for the biscuit pieces, which made Vince feel a bit sick. Mind you, Fossil pretty much made Vince feel sick whatever he was doing.

********************************************************

"Now, if you were going on the tour of the London sewers, you would have to enter via the Abbey Mills Pumping Station in Stratford", said Howard to Vince, as they began walking away from Brick Lane, both of them in raincoats, and Howard carrying their equipment in a backpack. "But that's just for tourists. I know there's a manhole entrance around here that the average member of the public would never suspect existed".

He sounded quite enthusiastic, and Vince wondered, not for the first time, how Howard could get so interested in boring and frankly yucky things, like sewers.

"People go on _tours_?", asked an incredulous Vince.

"Oh yes, they're very popular", said Howard. "The pumping station itself is absolutely beautiful – people have their wedding photos taken there. I'll have to take you one day so you can see for yourself".

Vince inwardly shuddered at the idea of going on a date to a sewerage pumping station, before remembering they were just about to go straight into the sewers themselves.

"Ew, imagine _paying_ to see stinky old sewers!", he said, screwing up his mouth fastidiously.

"They don't really smell that bad", Howard said. "I mean ... they don't smell good, but it's not as bad as you might think".

They were in Aldgate when Howard seemed to start looking for the entrance, occasionally doubling back and making sounds of annoyance when his memory served him wrong. At last he said, "Aha!" with a note of triumph when they reached a certain spot in a little alley off Fenchurch Street.

Howard knelt down, and prised open the heavy manhole cover, before lifting it up.

"I'll go first, Vince, to make sure it's safe", Howard said, as he lowered himself down the hole into darkness.

Vince could see that there were ladder rungs to climb down, and then heard there was a drop at the end as Howard let go and fell the last couple of feet. To Vince's relief, it sounded as if Howard had landed on something solid, and hadn't come down with a splash.

"Okay, Vince", called Howard. "I've got a torch switched on now, it's perfectly safe if you go slowly and carefully".

However, Vince had always been top of the class when they did gymnastics in PE, and had no fears about climbing down a ladder and dropping a couple of feet. In a moment, he was standing beside Howard in a dark tunnel, Howard's torch making eerie patterns on its brick walls.

"Great work", said Howard. "Here's a torch, Vince; I've given you the stronger one. And stick to the sides of the tunnel, so you're not wading through sewage".

"These boots are going to be ruined", moaned Vince in dismay.

"I'll buy you new ones", Howard promised, as he checked the compass and led Vince down the tunnel in an easterly direction. "I'll buy you a whole new outfit if you stop sulking. Any particular reason you're in a such a mood with me?".

"Oh, I was pissed off about Fossil coming with us", said Vince. "I hate that little toerag".

"I didn't invite him", said Howard. "And I didn't bring him either, that was Naboo's idea. I'm not happy about it myself, but Dianne thinks he was sent here for a reason, and she seems like a highly-educated lady".

"Yeah, and the first thing he does is send us into the sewers!", complained Vince. "I can't believe we're doing this because Fossil said so".

"We're following Dennis' orders, not Fossil's", said Howard quietly. "This is an important mission, and we have to do as the leader says, that's how missions work. Even if this is a wild goose chase, at least we can say we did everything we could".

"The sewers don't really smell that bad", Vince admitted. "I thought they'd smell of shit, but it's more a sort of ... earthy smell".

"Faecal matter only makes up a small amount of waste", Howard said, his boots making a sloshing sound as they went through a deeper part. "Mostly it's just water, from toilets, baths, showers, sinks, and washing machines. It reminds me of compost, more than anything else. This way, Vince – we're headed toward the South East Outflow".

"So why did I never hear about you being a sanitation inspector before?", burst out Vince. "I thought you were a jazz musician, then I find out you were a zookeeper, then an escort, now a sanitation inspector ... it's one surprise after another with you".

"I've led many lives, Vince", said Howard sententiously. "They call me 'Many Lives Moon'".

"I just don't understand how you did all these different things", said Vince.

"It's simple, Vince. When I finished school, I took a gap year and went to work as a sanitation inspector in London. It was good money, I was pulling in more than five hundred euros a week. I did that over the summer".

"So ... once you earned enough money for Europe, you went travelling in the autumn?", asked Vince.

"No. I thought I should start putting aside some money for university, to pay for textbooks and so on, so I worked as a bin man after that".

"Oh, right. So you had another job I didn't know about!", exclaimed Vince.

"I miss being a bin man, sometimes", mused Howard. "The work was hard, and the hours early, but I had the respect of my crew; my street brothers, if you will".

"How long were you a bin man?".

"About six months or so. Then I went to France in the spring, and later to Spain for the summer", explained Howard. "When I got back to England, I started uni in the autumn".

"What did you study?".

"I enrolled in American Studies at Reading, but almost immediately realised I'd made a mistake", said Howard. "I dropped out after a month, and applied for a job at the zoo. And the rest you know".

"I just wish we were the same age, so we could have been friends at school together", said Vince. "We've missed out on so many years, and there's so much about you I don't know".

"Yeah, I'm sure you would've been friends with me", said Howard sarcastically. "You were popular, on the football team, and had thirty girlfriends a year".

"Not when I was eleven – I only had ... I dunno, like three girlfriends when I was eleven", protested Vince. "And I would've been your friend. We could've been best friends, and you could've helped me with school and we could've spent all our free time together".

"I didn't have a lot of free time", said Howard. "I was in the school band, and very involved with the Scouts. And I would've lost my best friend at sixteen when he went away to art school in London".

"I wouldn't have gone if it meant leaving you", Vince said.

"So being my friend means you gave up on your dreams?", asked Howard. "Doesn't sound like a very healthy friendship".

"Well ... I dunno, I would've wanted to stay with you", said Vince. "We could be best friends right now, and sharing a room together – you know, you always get two to a room in your last year at school, and everyone shares with their best mate".

"As a prefect, I had a room to myself", said Howard.

"You were a _prefect_?", said Vince, in something like horror. "But ... but everyone hated prefects!".

"Prefect, and Deputy Head Boy", said Howard, rather amused by Vince's reaction. "I had a lot of duties, and along with Scouts, band, and doing A Levels, not a great deal of time for friends. I chose hard work and responsibility over popularity".

"Well, you definitely needed me as a friend", said Vince, recovering slightly from this shock. "I would've got you in with the cool crowd. You could have had fun and been popular, and not so much of a swotty brown-noser".

"Right, you give up your dreams for me, and I become a slack-arse for you, so we grow up to be a pair of underachieving losers", said Howard. "Great friendship. Real David and Jonathan stuff, there".

"I wouldn't have cared if we were losers, as long as we were together all our lives", Vince retorted.

"Either way, I just can't see how we would have had the opportunity to become friends", said Howard. "We had completely different hobbies and interests".

"Friendship doesn't work the way it looks on paper", argued Vince. "I mean sure, you were a jazz freak Scout, studying like a brainiac, and I was a football star who messed around all the time and only good at Art, but we still would have been best friends. We've got physics".

"You mean chemistry?".

"Yeah, and what if we'd been boyfriends?", said Vince with a sly grin. "You could've snogged me in the supply cupboard, or felt me up on the playing fields, or bummed me in the boy's bathroom".

"Well, that all sounds _very_ romantic", said Howard drily, "but I don't know if I would have been ready for that when I was at school".

"You were snogging blokes on your gap year. School would just be starting a bit earlier", said Vince irritably.

"Vince, are you angry at me for being with men when I was in Spain?", asked Howard. "Why do you care? You were only a little boy at the time, it couldn't make any difference to you".

"I know. I'm being a stupid little tit again", said Vince, sounding as if he might cry. "It's just that ... it's not _fair_ , Howard. You get to be my first time for everything, and you've done the lot already – with Tommy, with some fisherman, even with that bloody awful Fossil!".

Howard took Vince's hand that wasn't holding a torch, and gave it a squeeze.

"I know, sweetheart", he said sympathetically. "But it's not fair to get angry with me for being older, and I bet you've done plenty of stuff I haven't. I haven't done everything, really I haven't".

"I'm a hypocrite", said Vince in a subdued voice. "Howard, I ... I snogged blokes too. When I went to the bar with Leroy. He went off with Clare, and I snogged a lot of girls and guys. I was drunk, and sometimes I didn't even know who I was kissing".

"That sounds completely normal for a teenager out having fun", Howard reassured him. "And not very different from what I did on my gap year when I was around the same age".

"I'm sorry for being unfair, Howard", said Vince. "I just really wish we could have been boyfriends at school, and been each other's first time for everything".

"I'm not sure I would have been a good boyfriend for you back then", said Howard. "I know I would have been terrified of anyone finding out I was gay".

"Great – we could've had fun sneaking around", said Vince cheekily.

"I'm afraid I find it stressful rather than fun, the sneaking around", said Howard sadly. "It's pathetic, but I'm actually enjoying being down a sewer with you, because I feel as if we're safe here".

At that very instant, both Vince's and Howard's torch went out, and as he swore and tried to get his going again, Howard realised that Vince was no longer holding his hand.

"Vince? Vince, where are you?", Howard called out in the darkness.

There was no reply, and Howard could not feel Vince near him, no matter how wildly he swung his arms out.

A minute later, Howard's torch suddenly came back on, but Vince was nowhere to be seen.

**************************************************************

"Vince!", Howard called frantically. "Vince, can you hear me?".

He didn't think he had ever known this kind of choking panic, suddenly finding himself alone in a dark tunnel, with no idea where Vince was. If anything happened to him, Howard would never forgive himself. Never.

Suddenly Howard heard a plaintive voice, almost at his elbow.

"Oh please sir, can you 'elp me?".

Howard looked down and saw a pretty woman about his own age with smooth chestnut hair pulled into a bun, wearing a long floral dress with a shawl around her shoulders.

"Good God, what are you doing down here?", Howard said in shock.

"I don't rightly know, sir", said the woman tearfully. "I fell, and it was so dark, and I was ever so frightened, sir. Can you 'elp me, please?".

"Of course, if I can", said Howard in a daze. "Who are you?".

"My name's Elsie, sir", the woman said.

"I'm Howard. Here, take my arm, Elsie, and we'll keep walking this way".

"Oh, thank you, Mr 'oward, sir", Elsie replied, linking her arm trustingly with Howard's. "I don't know what I would have done if I 'adn't seen your light, sir".

There was something a little odd about Elsie, Howard thought. It wasn't her Victorian-style clothing; he'd seen plenty of girls wearing the Laura Ashley look. No, it was the way she spoke, and her manner – like an actress trying out for the role of Eliza Doolittle in _Pygmalion_.

"Have you ever been in theatre, Elsie?", he asked.

"Oh _no_ , sir!", Elsie said in a shocked voice. "I'm a respectable girl, sir, I am. I work in a pie and mash shop in Dalston, sir".

Howard wondered if Elsie had thought Howard was using "theatre" as a euphemism for topless dancing or something.

"I think I know the one you mean – on the High Street, isn't it? Lovely old-fashioned shop. I must pop in for lunch one day. I live in Dalston too", Howard said.

"Then we're neighbours, and you must always 'elp a neighbour out, mustn't you, sir?", Elsie said comfortably, as if they had met on the street and Howard was escorting her to her car or her front door. "As soon as I saw your light, I thought to meself, _Elsie me girl, you go ask that gentleman for 'elp, because 'e's the kind of gent a girl can trust 'erself to, that 'e is_ ".

"Elsie, I've lost my friend who was with me", said Howard, now that his companion seemed to have calmed down. "I don't suppose you've seen – or heard – anybody else down here?".

Elsie seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then her face lit up.

"Yes, I seen someone", she nodded. "Nice looking and fair? And the same mackintosh as you 'ave on yourself, sir, but so long on them it came down past the knees".

"Yes, that's Vince", said Howard in relief. "Where was he, Elsie?".

"Just a little way past where we are now", said Elsie. "I can show you directly, sir".

"Thank you Elsie", said Howard, hurrying her forward a little faster in his eagerness to find Vince.

"Isn't life funny?", said Elsie brightly. "Here was I, thinking _you_ was going to 'elp me, but it were really you who needed _me_ , sir".

"Elsie, how did you see Vince in the dark?", Howard asked, "And why didn't you ask him to help you?".

"They was carrying a lantern, sir, like the one you have yourself, but even brighter", said Elsie. "And they disappeared before I could make meself known to them, sir, and then their light disappeared as well, sir".

That sounded terrifying, Howard thought. He was frantic to see Vince, and wondered what Elsie meant by him disappearing.

"I don't understand", he said helplessly. "None of this makes any _sense_ ".

"You'll see in a minute, sir", said Elsie reassuringly.

It was longer than a minute, but less than five minutes later before Elsie tugged on Howard's arm, pulling him into a little alcove, where there was a large black box with a sloped lid, decorated with white hoops that somehow made Howard uneasy.

"That's where they went, sir", she said confidently.

"What? Into this _box_?", asked Howard in a stunned voice. "Why on earth would Vince have done that?".

"Now that I couldn't say, sir", said Elsie. "All I knows is that they got into the box, and then their lantern disappeared sir, along of them".

Howard opened the lid of the box and peered in. He could see nothing but darkness, and even his torch revealed nothing, any more than shining your torch onto a piece of black fabric will allow you to see anything other than blackness.

"Elsie, I have to go in after Vince", Howard said at last. "I don't have any choice, and you'll have to come with me, because I won't leave you alone in the dark out here".

"Oh sir, but we'll be in the dark in there instead!", said Elsie in alarm, as Howard clambered into the opening of the box.

"Take my hand, Elsie", Howard said, reaching out to her. "Whatever happens, we mustn't let go of each other, alright?".

Elsie whimpered, but she placed her hand in Howard's, and he held onto her tightly as Elsie climbed in after him, lifting her skirt so that it didn't get caught on the box's edge. Howard began his descent into the box, one hand holding the torch in front, the other reaching behind, with Elsie's fingers digging into it. After crawling down a narrow sloping tunnel, Howard felt a space open up before them, and he could see a dim light ahead.

"We're coming up to something now, Elsie", Howard said. "We may have to jump down at the end, but don't let go of me, okay?".

Elsie didn't respond, but she didn't let go of his hand either. Her fingers were twined around his wrist, and her hand was ice cold, perhaps from fear. It seemed to Howard that Elsie's hand felt different to how it had a moment earlier, and he turned his head.

To his dying day, Howard could never forget the horror of the moment when he felt that Elsie's capable, work-hardened little hand had become thin and bony, the long fingers and huge thumb holding his own hand with a vice-like grip. As he looked behind him, Howard could see there was no Elsie any more, but the green demon, top hat, polo mints and all, a wicked grin on his terrifying features.

"It's you!", Howard yelped. "Baboo Yagu!".

"That's what the Forest people call me, boy", said the demon, "but round these parts, I'm known as The 'itcher. See?". He raised his enormous thumb, and made a hitchhiking motion.

"What've you done with Elsie?", yelled Howard.

"Oh, old Elsie. She were good to me when I were a nipper. Give me eels for free, on account of I were an orphan. She's long gone, but I can still crawl into 'er skin when I needs to, understand?".

"Don't hurt Vince, whatever you do, please don't hurt Vince", begged Howard.

"Boy, do I look like a reasonable man, or a peppermint nightmare?", enquired The Hitcher, pulling back his lips in a parody of a smile.

"The first one?", quavered Howard hopefully.

"WRONG!", screamed The Hitcher.

He pulled Howard sharply towards himself and hurled them both out of the tunnel together, the demon's arms tightly wrapped around Howard's chest, his bony legs gripping Howard's hips.

They plummeted.

Down.

Down.

Down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In "Married on the Morrow", I depicted female shamans as rather more serious, intellectual, and religious than male ones. Dianne seems to be a continuation of that theme. 
> 
> While researching animal familiars for the story, I was interested to read that humans can also be familiars for witches. Human familiars are usually depicted as extremely simple and child-like, with a lively, mischievous personality that might be "naughty" but never truly evil or threatening, so it struck me that Fossil seemed like a natural familiar. Familiars are said to be usually of the opposite sex to their master or mistress, and it's common for witches and their familiars to become greatly attached to each other – a familiar will pine away if forced to leave their mistress or master, and some historical witches reported loving their familiars more than their own children. 
> 
> Boy Scouts stopped saluting people in the 1970s, but in this world, they seem to have kept up the practice. They only ever saluted other Scouts anyway, but Howard might consider The Shaman Council to be magical Boy Scouts, or it's the only respectful gesture he can think of.
> 
> Tours are offered from the Abbey Mills Pumping Station only on their annual open day; I'm not sure if they cost anything, so Vince could be wrong on that count. As it is a working sewerage station, you can't have your wedding photos taken there – either it's different in this world, or Howard is mistakenly thinking of some other pumping station which is no longer in use, such as Crossness. The pumping stations are very beautiful and ornate though, just as Howard says.
> 
> The geography of the London sewers in the story is basically imaginary, as Thames Water wisely don't publish maps of it. I have seen a few maps from times past though, and have a very general idea of the layout. 
> 
> Laura Ashley fashions and homewares were very popular in the 1990s, and long floral dresses draped in shawls by no means uncommon garb for girls and young women. Howard isn't an expert on women's fashions, and I figured in a tunnel lit only by the less-good torch, while under a huge degree of stress, he wouldn't immediately notice the difference between genuine Victorian dress, and retro-style modern day clothing.
> 
> Howard assumes that Elsie works at F. Cooke's pie and mash shop on the High Street in Dalston. Part of a successful chain, it closed down the following year. An interesting piece of trivia is that it was replaced by a Chinese restaurant called Shanghai – the same one that Howard and Vince have dinner at in "Married on the Morrow" (the chapter describes the distinctive Victorian decor). Of course, we all know that Elsie actually worked at the pie and mash shop which eventually became the Nabootique.


	18. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard learns what The Hitcher is up to and makes an unexpected discovery, while Vince meets a new friend and learns the truth about an old one. A strange message from the world of dreams that could hold the key to it all. But could it really hold the key to it all? Warnings for angsty stuff, mild body horror, discussion of animal cruelty, and canon character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going underground to reassess  
> Just what I've found
> 
> Hang On – Teenage Fanclub 
> 
> Working with me and Julian, it's like a black, fizzing nightmare. ~ Noel Fielding

Howard hit the floor hard when he fell, The Hitcher on top of him. He groaned and rolled over, his arms and thighs hurting the most as he had used them to break his fall. As he stood up on unsteady feet, he looked around in curiosity as to where The Hitcher had brought him. They were in a hallway of cages with iron bars and round doors, and it was brightly lit, so Howard didn't need a torch. A good thing too, as it had been broken in the fall.

"What is this place?", Howard asked, looking around in fear.

"It's my zoo, boy!", said The Hitcher exuberantly. "Welcome to my Zoo for Animal Offenders, where only the most evil and depraved beasts is kept under lock and key".

A red neon light switched on, reading _ZOO! for Animal Offenders_.

"Animals can't be evil or depraved", Howard said angrily. "They're ... they're _animals_ ".

"Oh, that's what _you_ thinks, squire", said The Hitcher. "But be'old, in this cage, a vampire bat what has sucked the life from mere babes in arms!". He gestured with a flourish towards the nearest cage, where an unhappy-looking bat hung limply from the ceiling.

"It's not a vampire bat, it's a Common Pipistrelle bat that feeds on insects", said Howard. "His name's Chrissy, and he belongs to a Welsh shaman named Barry. And having him under lights is cruel".

"Yes, a cruel punishment for a cruel and evil beast", said The Hitcher with satisfaction. "Now, in this next cage, a black cat. Well known for consorting with Satan at black masses, black cats are".

"Nonsense, shamans don't even believe in Satan", said Howard crossly. "That's Jill, a perfectly normal cat, and she's Gary's familiar. He misses her terribly, and has put flyers up all over London begging for her return". He was glad to see Jill curled up in her straw and sleeping peacefully. She was even purring.

"And in the next cage, a plague-bearing rodent of fearsome size", began The Hitcher, before he looked a bit harder, and added, "Bugger, 'e's gone, the tricksy little so-and-so".

"I'm betting that was Harry's rat, Clive", Howard said. "And having him next to a cat probably wasn't a good idea, unless he's escaped".

"Prisoners what escape will be tortured", said The Hitcher with a manic grin. "And prisoners what eat other prisoners will be tortured even worse. So that cat had better 'ope and pray to her master Satan that I find the rat".

The Hitcher went on to show Howard a goat who was obviously evil and preyed on old ladies at bingo by scamming them out of their winnings. Howard had to admit Kirk's goat Doug did have a rather evil-tempered look to him, but most billy goats do, especially when they've been locked up in an underground dungeon for weeks.

Then it was a tortoise who had ram-raided a supermarket and stolen forty packets of fags as well as all the change from the till. Howard thought Sheila's tortoise Kathleen was still alive, although it was hard to tell with a tortoise.

The final exhibit was a monstrous fish who had gained a taste for human blood, and eaten six people off the Norfolk coast. Cary's sprat Eric was in a jam jar of dirty-looking water, and Howard feared for his physical and mental health.

"So that's my little menagerie, boy", said The Hitcher. "The most evil creatures ever born, all under one roof. It's the greatest show on earth!".

"You're insane!", Howard said, his mouth dry.

"Oh, am I? Is it insane to collect evil animals what were the familiars of shamans, and keep them in the sewers below East London as me own private zoo?", demanded The Hitcher.

"Yeah, that's pretty much the textbook definition of insanity", Howard replied.

"You want to speak to your elders and betters with a little more civility, boy", said The Hitcher menacingly.

"Why have you brought me here?", demanded Howard. "I'm not an animal".

"No, boy. You're a zookeeper".

"I _was_ a zookeeper", Howard corrected him. "Now I'm in a jazz band, and do deejaying gigs".

"Once a zookeeper, always a zookeeper", The Hitcher said. "I need a zookeeper what can keep my zoo for me, and I've chosen you, boy. I 'eard you was trained by the greatest zookeeper what ever lived".

"Yes I was, but I won't do it", Howard said firmly. "It's completely unethical to keep animals under these conditions, and I won't be a part of it".

In reply, The Hitcher suddenly tore down the trousers which covered his skinny bow legs, took his frighteningly large green penis in his hand, and pissed in Howard's face as he jeered at him.

"Argh ... no! You, you ...", Howard spluttered, before he realised he should really be keeping his mouth closed.

Howard tried to tell himself that urine was sterile and no worse than if The Hitcher had thrown a glass of water in his face. Then he realised that only applied to human urine, not the radioactive green demon piss he was being sprayed with, and broke free from the spell The Hitcher seemed to have put him under. He turned aside, spluttering and spitting out Hitcher wee. It didn't actually taste that bad – sort of like warm lime cordial with a minty aftertaste – but who knew what it could do to you?

"Boy, if I say you're me zookeeper, you'll be me zookeeper, and no arguments about it", said The Hitcher firmly, picking Howard up and throwing him into a cage, slamming the door shut.

Then The Hitcher danced away down the corridor in his high black boots, humming a music hall ditty, having apparently forgotten all about Howard. Howard sat in the straw at the bottom of his cage, curious as to how he was meant to care for the animals if he was locked in a cage himself. At least the light had become dimmer upon The Hitcher's exit, which could only be good news for Chrissy.

*********************************************************************

As soon as he was alone, Howard tried the walkie-talkie, but it didn't work, even though Howard had the battery fully charged and done everything correctly. He threw it into his backpack and sat with his shoulders slumped, wondering where on earth or under it Vince had got to, and how he could ever find him. Howard had been sitting gloomily in the straw for a few moments when he heard a low voice behind him.

"Well, hello stranger", rasped the voice, which sounded like that of a tired old man.

Howard turned his head sharply in disbelief, but could see no one else. He thought it might be another illusion of The Hitcher.

"Who's there?", Howard called. "If there's someone locked in this cage with me, show yourself".

"You don't recognise my voice?", the person asked, sounding hurt. "I never thought I'd see the day when Howard Moon didn't know who I was, after all we went through at the zoo together".

The old man sat up from where he'd been lying hidden in the straw, and gazed at Howard as if unsure whether he was real or not. He was wearing a threadbare green uniform, so shabby it was almost falling apart. The name tag, which was half falling off, read _Tommy Nooka_.

"Tommy? Is that really you?", whispered Howard in shock. "By God, Tommy, what has he _done_ to you?".

"Oh, I know I've aged badly", said Tommy, followed by a hoarse cough. "I've been down here for years. I don't know how many".

"Six and a half" said Howard.

"Seems longer", rasped Tommy.

Tommy was only in his mid-fifties, but could have easily passed for someone ten or even twenty years older. Howard had known Tommy as strong and burly, even prone to stoutness, but he was now thin and frail. Howard thought Tommy looked like the pictures he'd seen of people rescued from POW camps and concentration camps at the end of the war. He had a deathly pallor from never seeing the sun, and his eyes looked huge and deep in his shrunken face. His hair had turned stark white, and hung around his face in filthy rats' tails.

"Tommy, I'm sorry, but The Hitcher has already cast an illusion to make me think he was a lady who needed my help", Howard said. "Tell me something about myself that only you would know".

"When you were a trainee at the zoo, I was showing you how to mix animal food in the zookeeper's hut", Tommy responded. "You leaned over and kissed me, and then you said, _I'm sorry, Mr Nooka_. And I said, _Don't be. I liked it. And in future, don't call me_ _Mr Nooka while we're kissing_ ".

"It really _is_ you, Tommy", said Howard, his voice shaking with emotion as he put his arm around his first love. "How in hell did you wind up here?".

"I was pushed into the ocelot enclosure and hit my head", said Tommy. "When I came to, I was in The Hitcher's zoo. It was empty then, and The Hitcher said he needed me to be his zookeeper".

"He said the same thing to me, he's insane", said Howard, getting out the thermos of tea from the backpack and helping Tommy drink half a thermos lid. "We've got to get ourselves out of here".

"I can't leave", said Tommy, his weak voice remaining firm and unwavering. "I'm a zookeeper, and it's my sworn duty to care for animals to the best of my ability. I can't leave these creatures behind".

"We can come back for them!", Howard said urgently. "Or take them with us, or _something_. But you can't stay here. I don't even know how you've been caring for the animals while you're locked in a cage yourself".

"Oh, The Hitcher lets me out, whenever he remembers", said Tommy. "And I can talk to them, hopefully calm them down, or gee them up a bit. It's not much, but it's something".

"But Tommy, these animals were only taken a few weeks ago", said Howard. "You've been gone for years".

"This isn't the first incarnation of the zoo", Tommy explained. "The Hitcher took me to begin with, then he went to the woods and forests to find animals for his zoo. One forest in particular had a lot of wild beasts. Recently he became obsessed with getting the familiars of shamans, saying they were full of evil magic. He said they needed to be punished, but sometimes I wonder if he wants to harness their magic for himself, if he feeds off it".

"Familiars only have magic when they are with their shamans", Howard told him. "Separate them from their shaman, and they're just ordinary beasts. If that's his plan, then he's fooling himself".

"I didn't know that", Tommy said. "I don't know much about shamans. I should have listened more to Naboo, I never took him seriously".

"And what happened to the other zoos? Where are all these animals now?", Howard asked.

"They died", Tommy said in a low voice. "I did everything I could for them Howard, really I did, but I couldn't keep them alive, not under these conditions".

"Then Tommy, don't you see there's no point staying here? You've got to go", Howard said gently.

"Howard, I ... life has been really hard down here, and I don't think I've got much longer", said Tommy. "When I go Howard, I need you to take over as head zookeeper and care for the animals. Do your very best for them, won't you, after I'm gone?".

"Are you mad?", Howard said. "You've already said that all the animals die in the end! This place is a death camp for them, and for you. You should have been looking for ways to escape, to rescue the animals and save yourself".

Tommy gave Howard a knowing look, and raised a finger to his lips.

"Keep mum about it", he muttered quietly, "but I've been working on that. Started a long time ago. See that poster over there?".

Howard looked around, but didn't immediately see any poster. There was a part of the wall that seemed to be even dirtier and smudgier than the rest, though.

"Yeah that's right, over there", said Tommy, nodding towards it. "It's a poster of James Dean that got washed down here some time ago. Well, take a look behind it. Careful, now".

Howard walked over to the dirtier part of the wall, and saw that it was a black and white poster, very water damaged. He could barely identify the subject, but by squinting and using some imagination, Howard thought he could make out a man on a motorcycle, wearing a leather jacket. Gingerly, Howard lifted one corner of the poster, and peeled it back. Behind it was a tunnel, chipped out of the brick wall, and stretching into the distance.

"You did all this?", Howard asked in shock.

"Yeah, well you know, not much to do in my spare time", said Tommy modestly. "Found a broken piece of glass, started digging into the wall with it, then I found a flat rock and made better progress. I got the idea to cover the hole with a poster from a story I read a while back. I was always a fan of James Dean – I looked like him when I was young, you know. You never got to see me when I was young and handsome, Howard. I had girls crazy over me. Guys, too".

"You were still handsome when I met you", said Howard shortly.

"A fat little man with greying hair, old enough to be your dad, that's what you got", Tommy said bitterly. "Now I'm skinny, white haired, and look old enough to be your grandfather".

Howard quickly changed the subject by asking, "How far does the tunnel go?".

"It's not finished yet", replied Tommy. "But Howard, if I die here, you've got to continue my work. Keep tunnelling out of this place, and find freedom for these animals. It's your duty as a zookeeper".

Rather than express his horror at Tommy's plans for him, Howard simply said, "Here. Have a sweet. You need the glucose".

He handed Tommy a Raspberry Bootlace from the backpack; he was too weak to eat it properly, but sucked on it slowly.

"Tell you something, Howard", Tommy said in a creepy voice, hunched over his serpentine sweet. "The wolves are running".

**********************************************************

Before Howard could respond to this cryptic clue, the lights suddenly snapped on brightly, and they heard The Hitcher come in.

"Good news, squires!", said The Hitcher jubilantly. "I found the rat, so the cat won't be tortured. I'll torture the rat instead. Anyway lovebirds, 'ere's a gooseberry for you. I found a young lady trying to 'elp the rat escape. Now, I won't 'urt a lady, I just scared 'er a bit, and she up and fainted. Budge over and make room for 'er in the cage. She'll be company for you if she wakes up".

The Hitcher unlocked the cage door, threw the girl in carelessly so that she rolled on the floor towards Howard and Tommy, and walked off whistling, presumably to do some rat-torturing. The lights dimmed again.

Howard took one look at the slender blonde girl on the cage floor, and pulled her into his arms, stroking her forehead, saying, "Oh sweetheart, what did he do to make you faint? I don't know what's happened, but it's all my fault for bringing you here". He dropped a fervent kiss on her pallid brow.

"What, _you've_ got a girlfriend?", said Tommy, in frank incredulity. "I hope you've been honest with her about your past, Howard".

"It's not a girl", said Howard tersely. "He's my boyfriend".

Tommy leaned over to see better. "Blimey Howard, what is he – thirteen or something?".

"He's seventeen and a half", said Howard, fanning Vince's forehead vigorously.

"That's _years_ below the legal age", said Tommy indignantly.

"The law's been changed", Howard informed him. "The age of consent is eighteen now, and he's only about six months away. I was eighteen months below it when we started going out, remember?".

"You mean us getting together would have been legal now?", said Tommy, stunned. "How unfair is that?".

"Nothing's that's happened has been fair, Tommy", said Howard in a serious tone. "It's not fair we weren't able to be together legally, and not fair that I lost you just before I turned twenty-one, and not fair that The Hitcher took you, and not fair you've been down here alone so long".

"I can't believe you replaced me with some snot-nosed kid who probably reads _The Beano_ and needs help with his times table", said Tommy scornfully.

"How very dare you!", said Vince, suddenly sitting up. "I read _NME_ , not _The Beano_ , and we're doing algebra this term".

"I thought you'd fainted?", Howard said with a frown.

"I was playing dead, wasn't I? That's the Law of the Forest – if there's nowhere to run or hide, and you can't fight, you let yourself fall and go floppy, and blank out your mind. Then there's a chance they'll leave you alone".

Vince ran his fingers through his hair to tidy it, and gave Tommy a glare.

"And Howard stayed at the zoo looking for you for more than a year, even though the zoo went to shit and he had to do everything by himself, and he was forced to sexually pleasure the new manager. He kept looking for you until the zoo closed down".

" _What_? The zoo's gone?", Tommy asked in shock.

"Yeah, went broke and they turned it into a bypass", Howard said apologetically.

"And did you know that Howard missed you so much he went mental and had to see a psychiatrist?", demanded Vince. "He's still seeing the psychiatrist now".

"It was only Naboo, and I just see him a couple times of month", Howard said awkwardly.

"And before Howard would even _kiss_ me, he told me that you were his first love, and he would be true to your memory forever", said Vince, his voice cracking slightly.

"I can't take it all in. The zoo's _gone_?", said Tommy, sounding lost and dazed.

"Vince, that's too much information to give Tommy all at once", said Howard. "He's been through a terrible ordeal, please be gentle with him, Vince".

"Wait – your name's Vince?", asked Tommy, suddenly turning and staring at him. "I think I might of known a friend of yours. He was brought in from some big forest out in the country, and you did say you knew The Law of the Forest".

"No ... no", said a horrified Vince. "Baboo Yagu only takes shamans' familiars from the East End".

"There's been ... a lot of zoos, Vince", said Tommy. "The demon started off taking animals from the woods and forests. That's where he got the name Baboo Yagu, although in London he was always called The Hitcher. A while back he brought in a leopard, and I knew it wasn't a normal wild beast, because it had a leather necklace that was stamped _Jahooli_ , and some kind of woven bracelet around one leg, with letters spelling _Vince Luvs U_ ".

"I made those for him", sniffled Vince. "He thought they were well stupid, but he still wore them. Kept saying I was making him into a house cat. What ... what happened to him, Tommy?".

"I'm sorry, Vince, but he ... passed away the day after being brought in", said Tommy. "He was very old for a leopard, I'd estimate at least fifteen, and wouldn't have lived much longer anyway".

"He was seventeen", said Vince. "Same age as me. We grew up together, and he cared for me when I was little. How did he go?".

"Died in his sleep", said Tommy. "It was too stressful for him, being brought here at his age, and he pined away. I was able to spend some time with him near the end, just stroking him and trying to get him to drink a little water".

"Bryan _lied_ to me!", Vince burst out. "He said Jahooli lay down in the sunshine in the forest and died peacefully in comfort. No wonder Bryan never let me see where he was buried".

"He only wanted to spare you pain", Howard said. "And didn't want you going after The Hitcher when the college term had just started".

"It's just ... oh shit, Howard. He stole Jahooli, the bastard". Vince wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his raincoat.

"I know, he stole Tommy as well", said Howard sadly. "But Vince, what happened to you? Where did you go?".

"Well, it was weird, Howard. Everything went completely black, and completely silent for a minute or two. When my torch came back on, you'd gone, and I yelled and yelled, but you didn't answer".

"It was the same for me", Howard said. "My torch came on, and you'd disappeared".

"I ran through the sewers calling for you, but then I had a piece of luck and bumped into Clive".

"Harry's rat?".

"Yeah. He'd escaped from his cage, and gone looking for help for the others. He can escape pretty easily, and he does it all the time, but he can never find his way through the sewers before Baboo Yagu ... I mean, The Hitcher catches him.".

"I hope The Hitcher isn't really torturing him", Howard said, his face white.

"Oh, Clive gets tortured all the time, he's used to it", Vince said. "The Hitcher sings music hall songs at him and says stuff to frighten him, but Clive says it isn't so bad. He's even got to like music hall songs. He's never cracked under torture. Clive's like a war hero, Howard – he deserves a medal".

"So what happened after you met Clive?".

"Clive told me how The Hitcher had locked all the familiars up in some sort of mental zoo, and said he'd show me where it was. We went through the box, and then we were sneaking around the hallways together, trying to find a way for everyone to escape, when we were caught by The Hitcher. I couldn't think what else to do, so I dropped to the floor and played dead".

"Wait a minute ... you _talked_ to the rat?", Tommy asked. "You could understand everything he said and he could understand you?".

"Yes, Vince grew up in a forest, and learned the speech of animals", said Howard.

"Can you talk to the animals here?", Tommy said, his rasping voice sounding eager. "Can you ask them how they're doing?".

"I'm not a circus freak", said Vince touchily.

"Tommy didn't mean it like that, Vince. You can trust him – he's a zookeeper. He cares for the familiars, and only wants to help them", Howard said.

"Well, I'll see what I can do", said Vince. "I can't promise anything. I can't force animals to talk to me if they don't want to – it was Clive who came to me".

Vince did his best to talk with all the familiars in their various languages, and then reported back.

"Doug and Jill are doing alright, nearly as good as Clive", he said. "Goats and cats are pretty tough, and they've been managing to feed themselves a bit. Chrissy is really bothered by it never getting properly dark in here; he's says his navigation is right off, and even catching insects in here has been hard for him. I'm not great with tortoises, but Kathleen isn't communicating. She might be depressed, or sick, I can't tell".

"What about Eric? That's Cary's sprat", asked Howard.

"Sorry, but I can't talk to fish", Vince said regretfully. "I can't talk to any animal that I eat, so not farm animals raised for food, or fish or anything".

"Thanks for that, Vince", said Tommy. "That's really helpful. It sounds as if Clive, Doug, and Jill can go on for a bit longer yet, while Chrissy, Kathleen, and Eric need urgent medical attention. If we're put in a position where we have to choose, we should make them our priority".

"The worst thing for all the familiars is being apart from their shamans", Vince said, looking serious. "They miss them so much it's like a constant pain in their hearts, and makes them feel panicky or despairing most of the time. They said familiars can only live apart from their shaman for about a month".

"Well, they've been gone for two or three weeks", said Howard worriedly. "That sounds as if we've got to get them out of here within the next few days at the latest".

"The thing is, if they're reunited with their shaman too suddenly when they're very weak, they can die from the overwhelming joy", said Vince.

"Cripes. Well, you'll have to prepare them for that when the time comes, Vince", said Howard. "Don't say anything yet, wait until we have definite news for them".

"This is a kind of zookeeping I'm not trained for", said Tommy in distress. "And ... oh my God! The zoo – it's gone! It's _gone_ , Howard".

"This must all be a big shock for you, Tommy", said Howard sympathetically. "Here, put this spare jumper on".

The jumper came down to Tommy's knees, and was several sizes too large, but was thick and warm. Howard looked through the first aid kit in his backpack, and gave Tommy a small dose of mild sedative. He got him to lie down in the straw, and put the other spare jumper under his head.

"All dead. All gone. Everything dies. Nothing lasts", Tommy muttered as he moved restlessly, his voice wandering as if he was in a dream. "The wolves are running".

"Try to relax, Tommy", said Howard, gently stroking his forehead, until at last Tommy stopped twitching and fell asleep.

**********************************************************

"Are you okay, little man?", Howard whispered to Vince once Tommy had fallen silent.

"I'm alright now I'm with you. So that's your boyfriend, Tommy", Vince said, gesturing towards the sleeping man.

"My _ex_ -boyfriend", Howard corrected him.

"You never actually broke up, did you?", Vince said. "You said he was strong and handsome, but he looks a thousand years old, and weighs less than I do".

"He's prematurely aged from being locked in here for years", said Howard reproachfully. "He's suffered horribly".

"He doesn't seem to be coping with the zoo being gone", Vince said. "And what was that stuff about wolves?".

"He's gone a bit wrong", Howard admitted. "Who knows what The Hitcher has done to him? Probably tortured him to the brink of sanity".

"So what happens with Tommy when we get out of here?", asked Vince.

"Tommy will need to go to hospital", Howard said. "I'll visit him every day, bringing Naboo, and Naboo can heal his mind of what it's suffered".

"And once he's out of hospital?".

"Well, he'll still be very weak. He'll probably have to stay with me for a little while, just until he's back on his feet", said Howard.

Vince knew that Howard would never abandon someone in trouble, and gloomily imagined Tommy living with him for months while Howard fed him up with home cooking and strengthened his muscles doing joint Jazzercise sessions. No doubt he'd take him for walks, and drives in the country to refresh his mind, talking with Tommy about the zoo and their past.

"Then what?", asked Vince flatly.

"Tommy has friends and family in Brighton", said Howard. "I'll try to get in touch with someone he knows who can take care of him, because he shouldn't be alone".

Vince went on imagining, thinking that no friends or family would be found to help Tommy, and Howard stuck with him forever. Tommy was Howard's first love, and that meant he had precedence over Vince.

Vince gave a long sigh, and Howard took his hand.

"Don't worry, Vince. _You're_ my boyfriend, and nothing is going to change that".

"I love you, Howard", Vince said quietly.

"I know, Vince. I love you, too". Howard squeezed his hand.

"I mean, I'm proper in love with you, Howard", Vince insisted. "It isn't just a stupid crush or something".

"I understand, sweetheart", Howard said, gently kissing his cheek. "I feel the same way".

"Aren't you going to tell me I'm too young to be in love?", Vince wanted to know.

"No. You wouldn't be in love if you weren't old enough", Howard said. "Even the law doesn't say that we can't be in love with each other".

"Are you letting me say all this because you think we might die?", Vince asked.

"No, Vince. Although if you can think of some way to escape or send for help, that would be good", Howard said.

"The walkie-talkie?", Vince suggested.

Howard shook his head. "Sorry, it doesn't seem to work down here. Can the familiars contact their shamans psychically or something?".

"I don't think so", said Vince doubtfully. "I'm not really sure".

"How about you have a sleep?", Howard said. "My watch says it's after midnight, and you've walked for miles".

"Okay, I'll have a little sleepie", Vince agreed, curling up and putting his head on Howard's chest.

It felt safe and warm with Howard's arms around him, and Howard loved him. He was Howard's boyfriend, and nothing would change that. Tommy seemed like a decent enough bloke and was in a bad way, of course Howard had to care for him. He'd be out of hospital and off to Brighton in no time. Vince and Howard could send him a Christmas card.

With these happier thoughts, Vince dozed off in less than a minute.

**************************************************************

At that same moment, Fossil woke up with a start. He was sitting on Dianne's lap and had fallen asleep with his head on her shoulder.

"I had a bad dream, Green Mommy", he whined.

"What was it about?", Dianne asked him intently, as if she really wanted to know.

"Howard was in danger. He got caught by the green witch, the _bad_ green witch, not a nice pretty green witch like you. The green witch locked him up in a zoo underneath a bunch of skeletons, and Howard had two boyfriends with him".

"There, there", Dianne soothed him, while patting his back. "Anything else, Fossil?".

"Yeah, there was a message in the dream", Fossil said solemnly. " _The wolves are running_ ".

"Are they really? That's very interesting", said Dianne thoughtfully. "I think I'd better tell Dennis about your dream, dearest".

Dianne picked up the walkie-talkie sitting beside her, and clicked the talk button.

"Come in Head Honcho, do you read me? This is Green Girl. Over".

_I read you loud and clear, Green Girl. Over._

"The wolves are running, Head Honcho. I repeat, the wolves are running".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Chrissy a Common Pipistrelle bat mostly because they're the most abundant and widely distributed bat in the UK. They are also very small, weighing about 5 grams, underlining how harmless poor little Chrissy is.
> 
> Tommy gets the idea to dig a tunnel and cover it with the poster of a movie star from reading Stephen King's novella, "Rita Hayworth and The Shawshank Redemption", published in his 1982 collection, "Different Seasons". If you have a TV, you have probably seen the film version. 
> 
> James Dean is believed to have had sexual relationships with both males and females, and this appears to be the case with Tommy too, who identifies with the actor and notes that he himself drove both girls and guys crazy. James Dean was cast as the rebel, bad boy, or outsider, and Howard said Tommy had been "a bit wild in his youth", so it might not only be Dean's attractive appearance that Tommy relates to.
> 
> "The wolves are running" is a key phrase from John Masefield's surreal fantasy adventure novel for children, "The Box of Delights". It was turned into a very successful TV series in 1984, much loved for being magical, mysterious, cosy, and slightly creepy, and the phrase became recognisable as part of classic Christmas viewing on the BBC (the first episode is called "When The Wolves Were Running"). I believe the TV series to be one of the many influences on "The Mighty Boosh". 
> 
> "Gooseberry" is Victorian slang for a third wheel in a romantic relationship. The Hitcher seems to have unerringly hit upon one of Vince's insecurities and given it a nasty little dig. If on purpose, it suggests he wasn't fooled by the "playing dead". The Hitcher may be crazy, but he isn't stupid.


	19. The Great Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the adventure brings more surprises, a strange Gothic location, a few mysteries, and an unexpected turn of events. Warnings for mild non-gory violence, attempted non-con, canon character death, and actually a fair amount of death generally. A shit ton of dead people, basically. I think it's all T-rated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When there's hope, when there's fear  
> What is there to say that he might hear  
> You turn him down with no mistake  
> Now you're leaving in the great escape 
> 
> Great Escape – Squeeze 
> 
> Luckily, we were together so we could laugh about it, but if we were on our own it would have been one of the worst moments ever. ~ Julian Barratt

Howard hadn't intended to fall asleep, just to watch over Vince and Tommy while they got some kip. But at some point in the early hours he yawned, his head nodded over his chest, and he dozed off with his chin propped up on Vince. He only knew that he'd slept when he was woken up (this is always a dead giveaway, one you may have noticed yourself).

At first he didn't known what had woken him, and then he heard a deep rumbling, which grew louder and louder. Howard gently shook Vince awake; he sat up looking confused and bleary-eyed, but almost immediately began smoothing down his clothes and tidying his hair. No emergency was so urgent that Vince could not remember to groom himself in preparation for it – both Bryan and Jahooli had been very strict about grooming.

"What is it, Howard?", Vince shouted, as the rumbling grew closer, but Howard only shook his head helplessly to mean he didn't know.

At last even Tommy raised his head, and looked around with a bewilderment that quickly turned to a look of disbelieving joy.

"Wolves!", he cried. "I told you Howard, it's the wolves!".

Howard hardly had time to think that Tommy must have gone more wrong than he had originally thought before the rumbling seemed to be almost upon them, and then through the James Dean poster burst Bob Fossil riding his motorcycle. As they gaped wordlessly at each other (it had clearly come as a shock to Tommy as well), Fossil used his motorcycle to smash through their cage door into the hallway.

"Okay boys, the door's open!", Fossil yelled, and behind him came a motorcycle gang of four, riding Tritons in single file down the tunnel, dressed in jeans, boots, and black leather jackets that had ROCKER WOLVES written on the back.

The most surprising thing about the gang were that they were actual wolves, with furry paws and grey muzzles and yellow eyes that stared at you unnervingly. The Rocker Wolves rode up and down the hallway, breaking through cage doors, riding in a triumphant ring around the cages, and returning to bring each animal to Fossil before they casually ran a comb through their brilliantined pompadours.

Tommy gazed at them in delight, saying, "I heard about you guys, years ago. The Rocker Wolves were meant to be a legend, but you're real. I always _knew_ you'd come!".

Fossil carefully placed Kathleen and Eric in his sidecar. Jill sat in front of a Rocker Wolf, while Doug sat pillion on another bike. Chrissy sat on the head of a third Rocker Wolf, getting rather tangled in his hair. Vince told all the familiars except Eric they would soon be reunited with their shamans, and to prepare themselves for seeing them very soon.

"Fossil, how did you get through the tunnel? It wasn't finished", Howard asked at last, having been stunned into silence until now.

"The shamans opened it at the other end", said Fossil carelessly. "Turns out Tony Harrison is a freaking genius with explosives, and those remaining bricks spent some serious quality time with sweet Lady Dynamite. Tommy, you're coming with us. You're a rocker, and you gotta start dressing like one".

Tommy stood up, and Fossil threw him a pair of Levis, boots, a white silk scarf, and a Rocker Wolves leather jacket. He hurriedly changed, pulling his clothes over a filthy tee shirt and tattered pants, looking glad to discard his zoo uniform at last.

When he was dressed, Tommy took his place with the fourth Rocker Wolf, swinging his legs to sit behind him, and hanging on to the back of the seat with one hand. He was suddenly transformed, and for a moment Howard could see the handsome young rocker Tommy had once been; a slim, brooding daredevil with enough charisma to attract a flock of admirers. Tommy gave Howard a cheeky wave and blew a kiss as he disappeared down the tunnel, along with the Rocker Wolves.

"Why did you never let me come on your adventures before, Howard?", asked Fossil, his face alight with pleasure. "This is all _so cool_. I don't even _care_ if we end up having an orgy or not".

"Thanks for saving Tommy and the familiars, Fossil", Howard said, feeling quite superfluous to the action.

"Hey, no problemo, pal", said Fossil. "Glad to lend a hand. But you and Vince are the real heroes. Holding the fort after we leave. Fighting the rearguard action. Taking on Baboo Yagu all by yourselves. Laying down your lives for our worthless butts. I tell ya, you guys are gonna get a memorial or something. You're _awesome_ ".

Fossil patted Howard encouragingly on the back, then followed The Rocker Wolves down the tunnel, shouting, "Bobbsy's coming, Mommy! I wanna make you proud!".

"Did he say something about his _mummy_?", asked Vince.

"As far as I know, Fossil's mother lives in Nebraska, and he's been avoiding her for years by pretending to be in a Vietnamese prison", said Howard. "I'm more concerned about the part where he said we were going to lay down our lives".

"Yeah, um, how come they're gone and we're still here?", Vince wanted to know.

"As an escape plan, it all went very well, except for the tiny detail that they left us behind to hold off The Hitcher and make sure he doesn't follow them", Howard said.

"I'm a bit bothered by that", Vince confessed.

"Mm. Me too", Howard agreed.

"And Clive is still being tortured, so we have to find and rescue him", Vince said.

"We'll add that to the "to do" list, Vince", Howard said, trying to sound chipper and stiff-upper-lip, even though his upper lip was as wobbly as billy-oh.

The lights suddenly came on brightly, which seemed like an ill omen.

***************************************************************

"What have you done with me zoo, boy?", shouted The Hitcher, when he hove into view and saw the empty cages.

"I didn't do anything", Howard said, quite truthfully. "I caught a quick forty winks, and the next thing I knew, everyone had gone".

"Not much of a zookeeper, are you boy?", said The Hitcher scornfully. "Couldn't keep this one very long".

"Well, as I've been so unsatisfactory, I regretfully tender my resignation, effective as of now", said Howard, beginning to slowly inch away. "I'll just gather my things, and ...".

"Oh no you don't, boy", said The Hitcher, his bony fingers digging into Howard's shoulder as he detained him. "I ain't finished with you yet".

"Please don't kill me", begged Howard, his knees buckling under the weight of The Hitcher's grip. "I've got so much to live for".

"I ain't going to kill you, boy", said The Hitcher with one of his sudden changes of mood into madcap merriment. "Why, I loves you". He threw his arms around Howard.

"Er, how kind ... must catch up some time", babbled Howard as he tried to get free of the embrace.

"I loves you so much, I'm going to rape you, boy", crooned The Hitcher.

His ice blue eyes looked straight into Howard's, one of them ringed by a polo mint. Howard was a rabbit in the headlights, hypnotised by those large eyes, the polo mint seeming to spin in front of him. He let out a whimper, quite unable to move.

"Ah, you'll love it, you slag!", The Hitcher said gleefully, turning Howard around. He put his strong hands on the waistband of Howard's trousers to pull them down, and pushed his groin against Howard in simulation of what he planned to do.

All this time Vince had been disregarded, and he had slunk into the shadows like a wild animal who fears the hunter, every sense alert, his eyes narrowed. But just as The Hitcher said the word _slag_ , he gathered himself up, and pounced.

Howard had often seen big cats attack their prey on wildlife documentaries; knew the way they suddenly sprang out of nowhere, all claws, the yowling growl that spat from the back of their throat. He had never seen it in person, and he had certainly never seen it performed by a human.

One minute Vince had been standing there, the next he had leapt upon The Hitcher, digging his nails into his shoulder, biting into his neck. Vince let out a guttural snarl that sounded a lot like "Motherfucker!".

"Don't 'urt me, girlie", begged The Hitcher in a suddenly humble voice. "Why, I'm your grandfather, your only living relative, what has been searching for you for years. Don't 'urt grandpa, now".

Vince hesitated enough that he took his teeth away from The Hitcher's neck, and looked torn.

"He's lying, Vince!", Howard shouted. "He's more than a century old – he's way too old to be your grandfather".

Vince fiercely redoubled his efforts, biting and scratching even harder at The Hitcher.

"It were worth a shot", The Hitcher snickered. "I ain't your family, but I did know 'em".

Vince hesitated again, and The Hitcher continued smoothly, "Caused me a lot of trouble at one time, but I got rid of 'em. I don't usually hurt a lady, but I killed all your family, so I have to kill you too, you meddling little wench".

Vince let out a despairing scream, and wrestled with The Hitcher, sinking his teeth in with a savagery he did not know existed in him.

"Plucky little bird, ain't you?", said The Hitcher, even while being bitten. "But you know what they say, lassie – never bring your teeth to a knife fight".

He reached into his coat and took out a dagger, and in a moment the positions were reversed. The Hitcher had Vince trapped beneath him, the dagger at Vince's throat. The Hitcher gave a cunning smile over at Howard, seemingly keeping him helpless with the spell of his eyes.

"Don't worry, girlie, I won't stab you in the throat. I don't kill quick. I'm a Cockney nut-job, ain't I?", The Hitcher said. "I'll slash you one way, then the other way. I'll slash you diagonal like a Connect Four in dagger terms. You'll be cut 'ere and there and all over, and then I'll have my fun with you, princess. I'll make you run and run, bleeding all the while, until you run right out of blood. You'll be running fast while dying slow. One of life's little ironies".

"Howard", called Vince, "is this what's called _mortal peril_?".

"Yes, Vince", Howard shouted back. "I think we can safely classify the situation as one of mortal peril".

"Then it's okay to do _this_ ", Vince said.

He squirmed away from under The Hitcher, pulled something from his raincoat pocket, and with difficulty raised it to his lips, even as The Hitcher recaptured him. Vince blew on an instrument, and although he only managed one short breath before The Hitcher wrested it away from him, the note continued rising and rising, independent of the horn from whence it originated.

There was a sweetness to the note, but more than that, a great strength. It gathered force, it rose in waves, it filled the cavernous space until none of them could hear anything else, their ears filled with the sound. They couldn't think of anything else either, as the note of Harriet's ivory horn had possessed their minds completely.

Then the sound stopped, so abruptly it was like a radio suddenly being clicked off. It was replaced by another one – the sound of water coming towards them. At first it was so distant as to be barely audible, then there was a swooshing sound, which became a thundering, then a roar that sounded like a train approaching, or a jet engine overhead.

"You onion, I ain't afraid of water!", The Hitcher shouted. "I ain't The Wicked Witch of the West. I won't melt or nothing".

"Howard, grab onto something!", Vince yelled, suddenly fearful of the power he had let loose.

Howard and Vince both managed to grip a ruined cage each before the wall of water hit them. It had come through the sewers, but it wasn't dirty – it was clear saltwater, as cold as the North Sea, scourging the sewers and washing them as clean as if they were brand new. Howard and Vince shut their eyes tight against the onslaught, and held their breath; they were torn from the cages they had desperately held onto, and the water swept them away down the tunnel.

Or perhaps I should say, _up_ the tunnel, because it was steeply sloped towards the surface, almost vertical at the end. The immense pressure of the water forced Howard and Vince from the tunnel so that they were ejected with a sudden spurt that left them face first on the ground, in the exhausted pose that is seen when someone lies on the beach having been "dumped" by a wave.

Before even looking to see where they were, Howard put his arm over Vince and kissed him.

"Thank you for rescuing me from The Hitcher, you were wonderful", Howard said, looking at Vince with awe. "I didn't know you could fight like that".

"Didn't really know myself", admitted Vince. "I saw him trying to hurt you, and I just ... went mental".

"You came at him like a beam, like a ray, like a buzzard", Howard said admiringly. "You bit him all over".

"Yeah, he tastes of peppermint", said Vince. "I can never eat peppermint ever again".

"Same here, and I'll never drink lime cordial again either", Howard said with a shudder. Vince asked why not, and Howard said he'd gone right off the stuff for some reason.

After a while, Howard said seriously, "They say once you save a man's life, you can never leave him. His life is entwined with yours forever".

"That's alright", grinned Vince. "I didn't have much on, anyway".

He rolled on top of Howard and began kissing him passionately, the two of them lying in each other's arms, sopping wet, and laughing almost hysterically with relief that the nightmare was over.

**************************************************************

"This isn't _From Here to Eternity_ , you pair of plum preserves", said a familiar voice with withering scorn.

"And this isn't the place for that, ballbags", said Naboo. "I mean, have a bit of respect".

"Harold make precious Vince do disgusting things", griped Bollo.

Howard and Vince looked up, and saw that they were in a graveyard, which the shamans had lit by hanging lanterns in trees. They stopped kissing, and jumped up, feeling very embarrassed.

"Where are we?", asked Howard.

"Bow Cemetery", answered Naboo. "You were practically bumming on someone's grave".

"Bumming on someone's grave? That's an outrage!", declared Tony Harrison, his head popping out from under Saboo's coat.

Howard and Vince quickly moved off, although the grave had really been several feet away. The simple headstone read ELSIE GRIGG 1825-1857. Howard wondered if it was the same Elsie used by The Hitcher, and how many other poor souls in Bow Cemetery the demon had slid into.

"Where's Clive?", demanded Tony Harrison. "Harry's in a right two and eight about him".

"Er, well, the thing is ... in all the excitement ....well, um, you see, it's a funny thing", Howard stammered.

There was a loud squeak from Vince's pocket.

"Clive! He's here!", a relieved Vince shouted, as Clive scampered up his arm. "He must've hid in my pocket when ... I mean, we knew he was there all the time, had him safe. Safe as houses".

Clive's shaman Harry ran over when he heard his familiar, and there was a blissful reunion.

"Thanks so much, guys", said Harry, who was tall and had dreadlocks. "I was that worried".

"Clive was practically running a one-rat Resistance down there", said Howard. "You should be very proud of him, Harry".

"Yeah? That's cool. Extra roasted peanuts for you, Clive, my man", said Harry, wandering off with Clive sitting on his shoulder.

Naboo put blankets over Vince and Howard that magically made them warm and dry, and Bollo brought them what was left of the hot chocolate in the thermos. They were excitedly telling their stories and hearing about everyone else, when Dianne came over, her expression serious but calm, as usual.

"Howard, would you come with me please?", she asked, discreetly taking Howard's elbow and extracting him from the group.

"What is it, Dianne?", Howard asked, as he followed her.

"It's Tommy, he's asking for you", said Dianne briskly. "He was already weakened, and after everything that's happened, he's quite near the end, now".

"Tommy's _dying_?", said Howard in shock. "Then call an ambulance, take him to hospital, let me perform CPR on him".

"Howard, I am a shaman. We know when a life has reached its course, and we know when a life has been cut short before its time". Dianne looked meaningfully into Howard's eyes. "You trusted a shaman then in your time of need, and you must trust me now when I say nothing can be done, and any efforts to save Tommy would only mean his last moments were spent in fear and agony".

Howard shook his head a little, not in disagreement but in confusion, and walked faster, afraid that he would miss Tommy. Dianne showed him where Tommy was, lying under a tree filled with twinkle lights; Dianne had made him warm and comfortable with blankets and rugs, and given him a draught to ease his pain. She briefly touched Howard's hand in acknowledgement, and then withdrew to give them privacy.

"Hello, Tommy", Howard said, sitting at Tommy's side on a bit of blanket. He had no idea what to say to someone who was dying, and felt like an idiot already.

"Hi, Howard", said Tommy with a smile. "Except I think it might be goodbye now".

"I only just found you", Howard said, taking Tommy's hand.

"Thanks for coming to get me, Howard", said Tommy. "Thanks for looking for me, and remembering me".

"Sorry I was too late", said Howard.

"No, no ... _I'm_ the one who's sorry", said Tommy. "Something I've got to tell you, Howard .... I did something really awful".

"Don't worry about it", said Howard, not really in the mood for a deathbed confession or raking up the past. "If you ever did something wrong, I forgive you".

"I have to tell you. Howard, I told The Hitcher about you. I missed you so much, and I was sick of being trapped and alone, so I told him about you, that you were a zookeeper too, that you'd been trained by the best, all that jazz".

"That's okay", said Howard.

"You don't understand. I made him _want_ you to come down, he went looking for you and he started trying to lure you into his zoo. I even told him ... Howard, I'm so sorry, but I even told him you were a Boy Scout, and would help anyone who was in trouble, especially a lady, or a little kid, or an old person".

"You did the right thing", said Howard, squeezing Tommy's hand and trying to smile. "I was looking for you anyway, and if you helped me to find you, then that's good. I just wish I'd found you a lot sooner".

"I betrayed you", said Tommy, looking searchingly at Howard. "I betrayed you, and you could have got hurt. Badly hurt".

"Please don't worry about it any more", said Howard, leaning down to kiss Tommy on the cheek. "You were in a terrible situation. No one can blame you for wanting someone else there".

"Thanks, Howard", said Tommy gratefully. "I needed to get that off my chest before ... well, I told you I didn't have much longer".

"This is all wrong", said Howard in frustration. "This isn't how I imagined it, finding you. I thought I could help you get better, but I can't".

"Don't worry about me, Howard, once I'm gone", said Tommy. "They told me I'll be joining The Rocker Wolves. Full membership, Howard! Can you imagine that?". He laughed in excitement, then coughed heavily.

It wasn't how Howard would wish to spend all eternity, riding around on a motorcycle with a pack of wolves, but it seemed to be exactly what Tommy wanted, and that was the important thing. Why, Howard knew of London cab drivers who had chosen to spend their afterlife as Grim Reapers, taking souls to their final destination forevermore. Horses for courses, he supposed.

"That sounds right up your alley", he said to Tommy, and for the first time, Howard's smile was genuine.

"Just like the old days", Tommy said with a faraway smile. "If there's a way for me to watch over you, I'll try to, Howard".

"Er, don't bother about that", Howard said uncomfortably.

"I don't mean I'll be spying on you, you great numpty", said Tommy with a grin. "I mean, if you're ever in trouble, and there's a way for me to give you a little nudge in the right direction, I will".

"Thanks", said Howard. "You always did take good care of me, Tommy".

They didn't talk any more, just sat in a companionable silence holding hands, until Howard felt Tommy slip away in the moments before daylight. Howard looked at his ravaged face in the cold autumn morning twilight as the pain and suffering left it, and for an instant he saw that Tommy had not just been handsome in his youth, but truly beautiful – as beautiful as Vince, in a different way.

Howard gently kissed Tommy's cold forehead, vowing that he would come to Bow Cemetery on November 26th of every year, in order to leave a wreath of white roses beneath the tree where his first love had drawn his last breath. Howard had an overwhelming feeling of not knowing what to do next, when Dianne came over to him again.

"I know this is a difficult time for you, Howard, but I wonder if I could possibly give you my business card?", she said in a low tone, passing it to him.

Howard looked at the card, which read GREEN LADY FUNERALS ~ _Let us care for your loved ones after their earthly departure_ ~ _Ask about our full deathbed to resting place service_.

"Thank you, Dianne", said Howard gratefully. "I would be very interested in the full service for Tommy".

"I'll get my coven onto it straight away", promised Dianne, and before Howard knew it, a group of green-faced witches had appeared to cover and remove Tommy's body, carrying it away through the early morning mist in a way which seemed distinctly eerie. He wondered where they were taking Tommy, before deciding he didn't really want to know. Instead, Howard made an appointment to meet with Dianne later in the week to discuss the funeral arrangements.

*****************************************************

Howard turned around, and saw Vince standing hesitantly a little way off, as if wanting to be near him, but not to intrude. He gave a wan smile, and held out his arms for Vince to creep into them.

"I'm sorry about Tommy", Vince said. He felt guilty for wishing Tommy to get out of their lives as soon as possible. He'd only wanted Tommy to go to Brighton – not to die.

"Don't be, Vince", Howard said, holding him close. "Tommy died a free man, and he only left after all the animals were safe. He did his duty as a zookeeper to the very end".

"You must be sad", Vince said.

"I've been sad for years because I lost Tommy and didn't know what happened to him", replied Howard. "I finally got to say goodbye. Besides, Tommy has gone to a better place".

"You mean Heaven?".

"No, he's joined The Rocker Wolves, and will be spending eternity riding around on a motorbike".

"Wow. That's weird, but kind of cool", said Vince.

"Weird but kind of cool is exactly Tommy's style", said Howard. "Are all the familiars back with their shamans now?".

"Yeah. Sheila had a fit when she saw Kathleen, but she started mixing up healing potions pretty much on the spot, and says she'll be okay. Cary says Eric just needs some clean water, and Kirk and Doug are already planning their next bingo scam together".

"What about Chrissy and Jill?".

"Barry took Chrissy straight back to the Welsh mountains so he can fly around some nice dark forests. Gary's taken Jill home to feed her up on roast chicken and grilled salmon. The worst part for her is, he's going to give her a bath".

"That's terrific news", said Howard. "All the familiars got out safely".

"Howard, is it okay if I show you something?", Vince asked, with a note of strain in his voice.

"Yeah, sure little man", Howard said. "What is it?".

"It's in this corner", Vince said, pulling him over to a quiet alcove of the cemetery that felt as if it was deep in the woods, it was so shaded with trees and overgrown with grass and wild plants. "It's a grave with my name on it".

"What, someone else named Vince Noir?".

"Not exactly", said Vince. "Have a look at it, and see what you think".

Howard looked, and saw a large, plain white marble memorial stone which didn't seem to have a grave to go with it. Across it, block letters spelt out VINCE TENEBRAE.

"That's not your name, Vince, it's a Latin inscription", said Howard.

"What does it say?", Vince wanted to know.

"My Latin's pretty rusty, and I only did one year at school", said Howard. "I think it's not proper Latin, or not a proper sentence, but if I'm translating it correctly, it says something like, _You Overcome the Darkness_ ".

"What does Vince mean in Latin?".

"You defeat, you conquer".

"So ... it reads, _You Conquer Darkness_ or _You Defeat Darkness_?".

"Yes, I think it could be translated that way", agreed Howard.

"Maybe Vince really is my whole name", Vince said thoughtfully.

"It's a bit odd, because your surname is Noir, which means _black, dark_ in French. The Latin phrase almost _is_ your name, or a play on your name, or something", said Howard.

"Have a look at the other side of the headstone", said Vince, gesturing to Howard. "The Latin side has my first name on it, but the other side has my surname on it".

Howard thought the other side of the stone was even more surprising than a vague inscription in inadequate Latin. It was a memorial to a family of four, apparently two separate generations, who had the same surname as Vince.

The memorial stone read:

_Bernard Noir 30th December 1925 - 22nd May 1981_

_Alice Noir 28th January 1935 - 22nd May 1981_

_Sylvie Noir 22nd September 1959 - 22nd May 1981_

_Max Noir 4th February 1960 - 22nd May 1981_

_They gave their lives while protecting the innocent. Let their sacrifice not be in vain, and may others arise to continue the battle._

"They all died the same day", said Howard in wonderment. "How do you think they gave their lives? The stone makes it sounds as if they got killed in a war".

"But look what day they died", Vince said, his voice trembling. "It's the day after my birthday. That's the day I was left in the forest and Bryan found me".

"You _remember_ that?", Howard asked in surprise.

"Not really, but Bryan does, and he told me. He said he asked me how old I was, and I said, _Yesterday I had a cake with three candles and everyone sang a song and gave me presents_ , so he knew I'd turned three the day before, and my birthday was May 21st".

"Do these names mean anything to you?", Howard asked.

Vince shook his head. "Do you think any of these people could be my parents?", he asked wistfully.

"Well, Alice was forty-three when you were born. That's on the mature side to become a mum, but not impossible. If Bernard is your father, he'd have been in his fifties when you were born. They could have had you late in life, I suppose".

"What about Max and Sylvie?", Vince asked.

"Gee, Vince – they would have been only eighteen when you were born", Howard said doubtfully. "And if Sylvie is your mother, she got pregnant with you at seventeen. Again, it seems possible, but unusually young, while the other possibility seems unusually old".

"Bryan said some people, like me, find their true love early in life", said Vince. "Maybe my parents did, too. And Bernard and Alice are ten years apart, like we are".

"Vince, we don't even know if these people are two couples", Howard said, not wanting to give Vince false hope. "They could be a pair of siblings and two cousins, niece and nephew to the older ones. They may not be your family at all. It could all be a coincidence".

"But The Hitcher said he killed my family, so if these people aren't my family, then where _are_ they?", Vince demanded.

"The Hitcher said he was your grandfather to start with", Howard reminded him. "The other part may not have been true either".

"I really wish I knew", Vince said disconsolately.

"The question is, who put up this memorial?", Howard said. "And where are the people buried, because this isn't a grave or a tomb?".

Howard saw Dianne hovering about, and called her over, asking if she knew anything about the memorial stone, Vince's family, or anyone killed by The Hitcher.

Dianne shook her head, saying, "It's certainly very intriguing. Hang on a minute, and I'll ask my familiar if he knows anything. Fossil!".

Howard and Vince looked at each when Dianne called, and Fossil came bounding over.

"Yes, Green Mommy?", he asked, with an obvious eagerness to assist that Howard had never before seen in Fossil.

"Fossil dear, Howard is interested in this memorial stone, and whether it might have been put up in honour of the family of his boyfriend, Vince. Do you get anything from it that might help him?".

Fossil stared at the memorial stone, head bowed respectfully, without any sign of being in a trance. He didn't say anything, but a feeling of deep, abiding sadness seemed to emanate from him. After a long time he spoke to Vince in a very quiet voice.

"You know, I lost someone in 'Nam. He died saving my life, and I think about him a whole lot, some days. I'm really sorry, buddy. It sucks to lose people".

Fossil gave Vince an affectionate punch in the arm, then ran away singing _We Gotta Get Out of This Place_ at the top of his voice. That was all Vince learned from him, but it is notable that after this, Vince could not find it in his heart to hate Fossil any more.

********************************************************

"Okay team, listen up", ordered Dennis in a loud voice. "The mission is over, and I'd like to thank all of you for your hard work and co-operation in making it a success. If everyone can move onto my flying carpet in an orderly fashion, we'll go back to Brick Lane together".

While the shamans got themselves organised, which always seemed to take an inordinate amount of time, Howard asked Dennis what had happened to The Hitcher. Dennis said he had been down to the erstwhile zoo, and all signs of its existence had been washed away by the water, including The Hitcher. The only thing that Dennis had managed to find was a top hat, and The Hitcher's fate was presently unknown.

Vince thought that even though The Hitcher said that water wouldn't melt him, the wave had been saltwater, and of magical origin, and that would be enough to make The Hitcher dissolve. Howard's theory was that The Hitcher had been swept out to sea with enough force that he was now in another country, or, even possibly drowned.

Saboo was pretty ruddy sure The Hitcher was still down there, minus his hat, and when the Crunch came, those morons would have to defeat him all over again, unless (extra sarcastic emphasis), they thought his _hat_ was the source of all his power? Tony Harrison submitted that Saboo should, for the last fucking time, shut up about the fucking Crunch, and why couldn't anyone just admit that his stratagem had worked perfectly? He got Kirk on the blower, saying, "Kirk, didn't my stratagem to defeat Baboo Yagu work perfectly?". Kirk had replied, "Yes", and hung up.

Dianne suggested they keep an open mind until all the data had been collected and analysed. Dennis' belief was that it didn't matter a jot, as long as The Hitcher was gone. Nobody was interested in what Fossil had to say, which is a shame, as he'd made a valuable contribution and probably could have added something quite pertinent.

(Although it was never discovered what happened to The Hitcher, I think it worth reporting that he was never seen again in this particular universe. It didn't help all the other universes of course, but I do think it should be chalked up as a definite win for Vince, and to a lesser extent, Howard.)

*************************************************************

Howard sat next to Dianne on the flying carpet ride back to Brick Lane. She had Fossil curled up asleep on her lap, and Howard gave both of them a vaguely disapproving look.

"So Fossil is your familiar now?", he asked Dianne. "Even though he's a human, not an animal?".

Dianne nodded. "That's right. My research has shown that humans can make highly suitable familiars".

"And what happens to him now?".

"He's coming to live with me", said Dianne. "We have magically bonded, and as my familiar, he will become distressed if removed from my presence, while if we are separated for long enough, he will die".

"But look here, Fossil isn't a bloody stray cat or something!", Howard expostulated. "I mean, he's got a life of his own. He's my landlord, for a start". Off the top of his head, he couldn't actually think what else Fossil did with his life.

"Do you think I won't handle my familiar's financial interests in an ethical manner?", said Dianne stiffly. "I teach Magical Ethics _and_ Business Management at Hoxton Polytechnic, so I _think_ I know what I'm talking about. You can continue paying your rent as usual, and I will invest the money on Fossil's behalf. I'll rent out Fossil's own flat as well".

Howard still thought the whole thing was creepy, but it sounded as if Fossil had at least found a good witch to magically bond with, and he'd probably wind up richer and more successful as her familiar than he would have on his own. He certainly seemed happy enough.

"Wake up, little man. We're here", Howard said softly, as Vince woke and stretched. He'd been having a little sleepie with his head on Howard's lap.

The magic carpet glided to a smooth stop and lay flat on the ground so everyone could disembark in Brick Lane. There were already early morning crowds in the streets, with quite a few groups of people going out for Sunday breakfast. None of them took any notice of the shamans, or the carpet.

Howard checked on the van, which was still parked behind a brewery, and was relieved to see that Dennis and Dianne had left it locked and secure. He and Vince took off their raincoats and stored all their stuff in the van, then they went to join the shamans, as Dennis appeared to be giving a farewell speech of some kind. They were surprised when Dennis addressed them upon their approach.

"What reward do you seek for your services to us?", asked Dennis, in a rather lordly tone.

"Oh er ... we didn't do it for a reward", said Howard awkwardly. "We're glad to have helped, and don't need anything in return".

"Great, well that's easy then", said Dennis, turning away to begin writing notes for a report of the mission he would submit to the Shaman Council at their next meeting.

"Actually Dennis, I'd like to ask for something on their behalf", said Naboo unexpectedly.

"Hmm, yes? What?", mumbled Dennis, only half-listening.

"On this planet they aren't allowed to bum because of some old superstition", said Naboo. "Could you send them to Xooberon for one night, where they are permitted to bum as much as they like?".

"Nothing easier", said Dennis in a bored voice. "Hold hands with each other".

Howard and Vince did so.

"Take this amulet, and press the red stone in the centre", instructed Dennis, holding it up to show them. "It will take you straight to the planet Xooberon. It has been enchanted to bring you back here after twelve hours have passed, so you must remember to hold hands in exactly twelve hours time while carrying the amulet".

Dennis handed the gold amulet to Howard, who gently touched the red stone.

"Um, have I got this right? I press the red stone here - ".

They vanished.

"They didn't wait for me to explain everything else!", complained Dennis. "They must be really eager to bum each other".

"What a _revolting_ thought", said Saboo with a shudder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now written around 86 000 words, which is the length of a standard novel, around that of Jane Austen's "Persuasion". (I was aiming for 55 000, about the same as "The Notebook"). If you'd bought this story as a book or checked it out of the library, you would have reached the end by now, and would have to go out and get the sequel to see what happens next. However, thanks to the magic of the internet, the story will just continue as normal. I can break it up into Part 1 and Part 2, if you want.
> 
> Triton motorcycles were hybrid bikes built in the 1960s and '70s, with a Triumph engine in a Norton frame. They were one of the bikes favoured by Rockers (the name Rocker has nothing to do with rock music, but is from the rockers found in four-stroke engines, rather than the two-stroke engines used in the scooters ridden by Mods. Rockers were all about the motor, not the music).
> 
> The clothes that Fossil gives Tommy to wear is the basic Rocker uniform (as in this case, it often didn't include a motorbike helmet, leading to that classic quip: "What do doctors call motorcyclists? Donors". This was in the days before you had to fill out a donor card for your organs to be used, and hospitals just helped themselves to whatever they wanted after you'd been scraped off the road). 
> 
> In our world, Bow Cemetery is an old name for the Tower Hamlets Cemetery Park in Mile End (not an official name, but what residents called it). The cemetery was closed to new burials in 1966, but somehow a memorial stone to the Noirs was able to be erected in 1981, although they apparently aren't buried there. The graveyard is part of a woodland nature reserve, a usually tranquil spot in the East End. Events and festivals take place there both day and night, and it's used as a meeting place by Wiccans and Neo-Pagans, so I figured that residents would be quite used to seeing people in long robes wandering around with the place lit up at all hours (if they even noticed). 
> 
> In regard to Elsie Grigg, a "grigg" is an old word for a baby eel. That seemed to me to provide another explanation for why people called her Elsie Eel. 
> 
> For no particular reason, I decided that Harry is the shaman with dreadlocks who can be seen at the Shaman Council stag do in "Eels". The story doesn't say so, but in my mind, Gary is the shaman in the same episode who wears long hand-made looking red and white robes with a loose-knit shawl. Sheila and Cary are imaginary.
> 
> Green Lady Funerals is a joke that really only works in Australia, where there's a well-known business called White Lady Funerals. All the staff are women, who wear white suits. 
> 
> For Vince's family's names, I just picked names that were popular in France for their eras, and that were also familiar in the UK (only later did I realise they are all the protagonists of children's books). I tended to avoid names that had religious or spiritual meanings, but the only one which has any significant meaning is Sylvie, which means "of the woods", to suggest that she may have had some connection with forests, like Vince. I liked the idea that Vince's mum might have grown up in a magical forest too, and when she had to leave her son somewhere to be fostered, a forest seemed like a safe, familiar place to her, rather than somewhere strange or threatening. The family's birth dates are the same as some of Noel's influences (Rudyard Kipling, Mary Tourtel, Joan Jett, and Alice Cooper). 
> 
> Polytechnics were institutes of technology in the UK that tended to focus on STEM subjects such as engineering: they were often looked down on as not being a "proper" educational institution. The polytechnic system ended in 1992 in our world, and the existing polytechnics were granted university status; however, one held out until 2005, so maybe Hoxton Poly did too. You'll notice that Magic is seen as a practical, science-type subject to study in this world, suitable for a polytechnic. There was a Hoxton Polytechnic, but it was in Sydney, not London (in Australia, polytechnics are technical colleges).


	20. A World Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Vince are sent to Xooberon for a night as a reward. On this planet, they can do whatever they like with each other, their relationship is legal there. So, what will they decide to do together? Warning for a complete cultural hodgepodge! Huge thanks to my awesome smut coach blackmountainbones, who as always, made everything better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And when I leave this planet  
> You know I'd stay but I just can't ...
> 
> Half the World Away – Oasis 
> 
> It just got filthier and filthier, until like, I was fellating you. I had to touch myself. ~ Noel Fielding

"What reward do you seek for your services to us?", asked Dennis in a lordly tone.

"Oh er ... we didn't do it for a reward", said Howard awkwardly. "We're glad to have helped, and don't need anything in return".

"Great, well that's easy then", said Dennis, turning away to begin writing a report of the mission he would submit to the Shaman Council at their next meeting.

"Actually Dennis, I'd like to ask for something on their behalf", said Naboo unexpectedly.

"Hmm, yes? What?", mumbled Dennis, only half-listening.

"On this planet they aren't allowed to bum because of some old superstition", said Naboo. "Could you send them to Xooberon for one night, where they are permitted to bum as much as they like?".

"Nothing easier", said Dennis in a bored voice. "Hold hands with each other".

Howard and Vince did so.

"Take this amulet, and press the red stone in the centre", instructed Dennis, holding it up to show them. "It will take you straight to the planet Xooberon. It has been enchanted to bring you back here after twelve hours have passed, so you must remember to hold hands in exactly twelve hours time while carrying the amulet".

Dennis handed the gold amulet to Howard, who gently touched the red stone.

"Um, have I got this right? I press the red stone here - ".

They vanished.

"They didn't wait for me to explain everything else!", complained Dennis. "They must be really eager to bum each other".

"What a _revolting_ thought", said Saboo with a shudder.

**************************************************

Howard and Vince instantly found themselves in a completely different place, and looked around in a daze. Howard was vaguely reminded of the Arab Quarter he had visited in Granada, and pictures he had seen of market places in Morocco. Vince thought it looked a bit like a scene from _Aladdin_ , a Disney movie he'd gone to a few years ago. There were colourfully-dressed crowds, but none paid any attention to the fact that two people had just materialised in front of them. Maybe they were used to it.

"I think we must be somewhere on Xooberon", said Howard, trying to get his bearings. "This seems to be a town or suburban area, and the sun is going down. I'd say it's around six in the evening, and it's quite warm, so it might be spring or early summer here".

"It's beautiful", said Vince breathlessly. "The light, the clear air, and all the colours. Everyone is wearing wonderful clothes and jewels".

"It's certainly very exotic", said Howard. "Let's see what we can find away from the marketplace".

They had never stopped holding hands, and now walked along clutching each other for comfort. In a few minutes, they reached what seemed to be a residential area, with lots of little terracotta-coloured houses and apartments set around and on top of each other, all higgledly-piggledy. Most of them had brightly painted doors, many with pots of strange flowering plants on the terraces outside.

There was a gap in the high wall that surrounded the town or city, and when they looked through the metal bars that covered the gap, they could see a vast desert stretching across pale sands, the sun now deep red and low on the horizon.

"This is the desert, so it will get cold when the sun goes down", Howard told Vince. "We should look for shelter".

"How?", said Vince. "We can't just barge into people's houses, and we don't have any money to pay for a room or anything".

"Don't worry, Vince, you're with me", said Howard reassuringly, trying to disguise the fact that he was frightened and anxious. "I've got Boy Scout badges in everything, and a Boy Scout can cope with any situation".

Just then a handsome, athletic man, stripped naked to the waist, came running towards them. Howard felt alarmed, and held Vince's hand tighter.

"I am Banoo, the strongest, fastest warrior of all, servant of the king", he announced, giving a low bow in front of them. "You are the warriors from the planet Earth, and I have been sent to give you all possible assistance. I have been searching everywhere for you – Naboo said that you left Earth very suddenly, without waiting for full instructions".

"Er yes, I was possibly a bit hasty there, sorry", said Howard.

"The king, the shamans, and all people of Xooberon honour you for your part in destroying the green demon, for we also knew and feared him", said Banoo. "Please tell me of your most personal needs, and it will my greatest pleasure to fulfil them".

"We don't want to give you any trouble", said Howard. "But if you could show us somewhere we could spend the night ...".

"Of course, forgive me for wasting your time babbling like this", said Banoo. "Come this way".

Banoo led them into a different residential area – in this one, the houses and apartments were painted in various pastel colours, and arranged around small courtyards with a fountain in the centre. Banoo led them up a flight of stone steps to a heavy door set into a primrose yellow wall, which he opened with a complicated-looking key. He ushered them through.

"These are the living quarters Naboo maintains on his home planet", said Banoo. "They are modest, but I hope sufficient for your wants".

The apartment was small and compact, with rooms coming off a central living area covered in beautifully woven rugs and with comfortable low seating.

"Thank you, this is far better than we hoped for", said Howard truthfully, who had feared they would be sleeping in the street.

"Yeah, it's genius. Thanks, Banoo", said Vince.

"And in here are the sleeping arrangements", said Banoo, ushering them through.

An intricately carved four poster bed took up most of the room, covered in silken sheets and heavily embroidered quilts, with bright gauzy hangings.

"Very nice", said Howard politely.

"The bed is large", continued Banoo. "Big enough for three people, at least".

"Good, because I'm fairly tall", said Howard.

"It would be my honour to fulfil even the most intimate needs of heroes such as yourself", said Banoo after a few moments. "Please, I am here to do _anything_ you want me to, anything at _all_ ".

He looked at them expectantly, and Howard wondered uneasily if he was supposed to tip him. Maybe Vince thought the same thing, because he suddenly said:

"Thanks, Banoo. Did Naboo leave anything else for us that we might need?".

"Oh, I nearly forgot", said Banoo, slapping his head. "Naboo said he has a jar of coins on the bedside table. I believe it is where he deposits his spare change on each visit".

He gestured to a green glazed urn on a little table next to the bed. Howard wondered if Naboo had left them enough money for anything much, and how money even worked on Xooberon. What was the exchange rate?

"Thank you so much for everything, Banoo", said Howard. "You've been very kind, and I hope we haven't been too much of a nuisance".

"It is my honour to serve you", said Banoo, with a little bow. "If perhaps, I could perform some small service for you both ... ?".

"Nah, we're right Banoo", Vince assured him. "Would it be okay if we just got settled in now?".

"Of course, you must want to be alone", said Banoo. "My quarters are on the other side of the courtyard, in the big house that is the same colour as your eyes, young warrior. Should you require anything in the night, it would be my honour to serve either or both you, or to fetch anything, or anyone, that you desire".

There was a lot more bowing, and thanks, and offers to help, and being honoured, and saying they were fine, but at last Banoo left, remembering to give Howard the front door key as he went.

********************************************************

"I thought he was going to stay the night with us for a minute", said Howard, flopping onto the bed in relief at Banoo's departure.

"I think he wanted to", giggled Vince as he joined him. "Or he thought we wanted him to, or something".

"Well, we're alone now", said Howard, putting his arms around Vince. "What do you want to do?".

"Naboo sent us here to bum", Vince said. "I mean, we can't at home, and we can here".

"You can't just arrive in a strange place and suddenly start bumming", Howard objected. "I mean, do they even have condoms and lube on Xooberon? And where would we buy them? I bet there isn't a Boots around here".

"We could probably ask Banoo to get us stuff", Vince said without enthusiasm.

"I don't think I could cope with all the palaver", Howard groaned.

"Yeah, plus he'd probably want to get involved", giggled Vince.

"More importantly, is bumming really what you want, Vince?", asked Howard, looking into his eyes.

"I do think about it", admitted Vince, with a dropped gaze, so that all Howard could see were his long eyelashes. "Don't you?".

"Well, I've never actually bummed anyone, Vince", said Howard calmly, stroking Vince's hair. "So I don't have any experience at all, and I'd probably not be very good".

"What, _never_?", squeaked Vince. "But you had a boyfriend!".

"Tommy was pretty traditional", Howard explained. "In his mind, the older man always does the bumming, and the younger man is always the bottom".

"That doesn't seem fair", said Vince carefully, trying not to sound as if he was criticising Tommy.

"Well, he was from a different generation. And Tommy said ... well, he said I was a bit too big to do the bumming", Howard blushed. "He said men of my size always have to be bottom, in case I hurt someone".

"That's rubbish", said Vince. "I bet loads of blokes would love to be bummed by someone big. I bet loads would think it was really sexy. And I bet there's things you can do to make it easier. Different positions and that".

"You're sweet", said Howard, his lips on Vince's. "But anyway, that's why we won't be rushing into bumming, even after you turn eighteen. It's something I'd only be comfortable with after we'd been together a while, and I'd prefer it if you bummed me, at least to begin with".

Vince was overwhelmed by this. He had never even thought about bumming Howard. It was too much to take in, like being told you were allowed to bum a king or a movie star. It didn't seem real.

"Howard, what would you like to do on Xooberon that we can't do together at home?", asked Vince at last.

"There's something I've been dreaming about almost since the moment we met", said Howard slowly, "something I think about all the time. And I think it might be something you'd really love as well".

*************************************************************

"So this is the thing you always wanted?", asked Vince, a little later.

"Yes", smiled Howard, with a little blush on his cheeks. "And it's even better than I imagined".

Howard and Vince were strolling around the market place, holding hands. They had found some spare robes in a cupboard, and although Naboo was very short, he had a couple of cloaks that were longer (maybe for guests whose cloaks got wet or muddy), so Vince had a short robe and a cloak, and Howard just had a big cloak over his normal clothes.

They had taken all Naboo's spare change, and tried showing it to people at the market stalls who were still selling things, asking them to pick out enough coins to pay for what they wanted. There didn't seem to be any closing time on Xooberon, and traders kept going until they ran out of things to sell, or got jack of it and went home. Naboo appeared to have left enough money that they could afford to buy a few little trinkets, but not enough for them to buy anything large. But as Howard pointed out, they didn't really have any way of getting significant purchases home.

Howard had bought Vince a filmy blue and silver scarf that brought out of the colour of his eyes, and a silver brooch shaped like an arrow that was designed to fasten a cloak. Vince bought Howard a little stamp-sized wooden box with a tiny landscape of the desert painted on it, and a silver medallion with a crescent moon design. They were wearing their gifts, except for the box, which Howard had in his pocket.

"Hungry, Vince?", asked Howard, when they reached that part of the market which had stalls selling food.

"Starving", said Vince. "It feels like days since we last ate".

"It probably is, give or take a time zone or two", said Howard. "Now, remember the first rule of eating food in a strange place, Vince – never ask what anything is. The answer is bound to be horrifying, so just go by what looks, smells, and tastes good".

Vince agreed that was probably sensible, so they ended up choosing what looked like curled up pockets of flatbread filled with some sort of spicy meat sauce, and wooden skewers that had what they assumed to be roasted fruits and vegetables stuck on them.

They took their food and sat on a little wooden bench together in a paved courtyard strung with coloured lights, where a street performer was singing, accompanying himself on an instrument very much like a small square harp. The tune was soft and romantic, and when they finished eating (the food was quite good), they sat with their arms around each other, listening to the music, and occasionally kissing.

There was a woman in a purple robe feeding a baby from a bottle on the next bench, and Howard noticed her smiling and nodding at them, as if seeing them together made her happy. He smiled politely back.

"You look very exotic", the woman said with interest. "Where are you from?".

"From the part over there with fountains in the courtyard, just beyond the gap in the wall", said Howard, gesturing.

"Ooh, nice area", said the woman, sounding impressed. "We're one district over – the one that has brightly coloured houses, and between each block is a little garden.

"I'm Loola", the woman added, "and this one is Neeboo". She touched the baby's head.

"I'm Howard, and this is my boyfriend Vince", said Howard, just about bursting with pride. It was the first time he had ever introduced himself to a stranger this way.

"Lucky man", smiled Loola teasingly.

"I feel very fortunate", Howard agreed.

"No, I meant _he's_ lucky", Loola explained. "Having a big strong man like you to take care of him".

"Vince is stronger than he looks – he can take care of himself", Howard said.

"Oh, I can tell who takes care of whom", Loola said with a laugh. "You're the sort who spoils their lover with sweetness, and they open like a flower on it".

"Is Neeboo your only child?", asked Howard, changing the subject. "No, I'm sorry – I mean, er .... your grandchild?". Because now he looked at her properly, Loola appeared to be around his mother's age.

"Neeboo is my _husband_!", Loola said with a little shriek of laughter. "The ridiculous man went to the Fountain of Youth, and he opened his mouth so he got some of the water in it. Can you believe anyone could be such a fool as to drink from the Fountain of Youth?".

"What an idiot", said Howard, who'd actually imagined that drinking was exactly what you did at a Fountain of Youth. "Could you not get an aging potion? I've heard about them".

"They're very expensive, and take months to brew yourself", Loola said. "I've got a while yet before mine will be ready to age him".

"What a shame", said Howard sympathetically. "And you didn't even get a chance to use the Fountain of Youth yourself".

"What do you mean? I _did_ use it", Loola protested. "I'm two hundred and eighteen, but I don't look a day over fifty-one after going to the Fountain".

"I do apologise", said Howard, "and you don't even look fifty. A very youthful forty-nine".

"Well, don't you have the smooth tongue?", smiled Loola. "I'd better get Neeboo to bed or he'll cry all night. Nice talking to you Howard, and I can tell you and Vince will be very happy, once you get past whatever it is that's making you look so worried. Time mends most problems, if one only waits long enough".

Howard said goodnight, flabbergasted at her insight. He had really enjoyed talking to someone about Vince without feeling frightened, or paranoid, or guilty, or ashamed of their relationship, and he leaned over and nuzzled Vince. Vince gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and squeezed his hand. It was incredible being able to do that in public as if it was perfectly normal.

"I'll get us a drink", Howard said to Vince, rising from his seat and going to a nearby stall that sold cold drinks. On a whim, he also bought some fried cakes that looked like star-shaped doughnuts, sprinkled with something sweet.

"I thought you might like these as well", said Howard, handing Vince a cake.

"She's right – you really do spoil me", said Vince with a grin, taking a big mouthful of cake.

As they left the market place, Vince noticed a dark-skinned man who was selling fortunes. He asked Howard if he could have his fortune read, although Howard said it sounded like a complete waste of money, and would probably be something generic and useless, like _You shall one day embark on a long voyage_ , or _Beware: there is one you trust who is not as they seem_. Vince said he'd love to know if he was going on a long voyage, or had trusted someone dodgy.

Howard sighed, but Vince had already pushed a coin towards the man, who raised his heavy-lidded eyes to look at Vince with a piercing gaze. He did not speak, but wrote something down on a scrap of yellow parchment, folded it over, and handed it to Vince with an expression that might have been slightly malicious before disappearing into the crowd.

When Vince unfolded the paper, it simply read: _He will return to you_.

"You were right, Howard – it's a complete scam", said Vince, very disappointed. "It doesn't even make any sense".

He kept the piece of paper though. After all, it had been given to him by an alien on a strange planet, which made it an interesting memento in itself.

**********************************************************

"So did you have a nice time tonight, Vince?", Howard asked. They were lying in bed together, having removed all their clothing except their pants.

"It was brilliant, Howard", Vince replied happily. "It was amazing just being able to walk around together holding hands, and nobody minded at all".

"Well, it will be the same at home once you turn eighteen", said Howard.

"Is that really true?", asked Vince doubtfully. "I mean, aren't there quite a few people who get a bit worked up over two blokes being together?".

"You just have to pick your venue carefully and be sensible", said Howard. "It would have been fine at the art gallery, and at the Folk Night we went to. Maybe best not to try it in the main bar of The White Hart, though".

"I don't really want to go there anyway", Vince said. "It had a funny smell, and everyone seemed sort of aggro about nothing. They even hassled me and Leroy for putting on make-up in the men's bogs".

"So that was what I wanted to do", said Howard. "What do _you_ feel like, Vince?".

"A threesome with Banoo", giggled Vince.

"No, I won't share you with anyone else", said Howard firmly, holding Vince tight as if he didn't want him to get away. Vince gazed at Howard dewily, pleased by this show of possessiveness.

"Well, there was that thing you never let me do before, and we're in a bed now where it's comfortable", said Vince, his blue eyes big and innocent in contrast to his teasing words.

"Is that really what you want Vince, or is it something you think I want?", asked Howard.

"I really want it", said Vince, his voice sounding husky with longing.

"And why do want it?", asked Howard, as if still unconvinced.

Vince snuggled up close to Howard, and kissed him.

"You've got a beautiful big cock, and it feels so good to touch", he whispered. "Really hard like iron, but it feels hot, and as if it's covered in silk and velvet".

"Mm, and what else?", murmured Howard.

"It smells good too, and whenever I see it, it makes me want to taste it and lick it", said Vince.

"That's a good start", said Howard softly. He unconsciously twisted his feet against each other, the only sign of the effect Vince’s words were having on him.

"And ... you're always so cool about everything", said Vince. "You act so ... controlled ... all the time. I'd love to make you go mental for once, the way you do to me".

"Is that right?", asked Howard with a little smile, kissing Vince.

"Do you ever think you'll be ready for me to do it?", asked Vince.

"Keep going on like that, and I don't think I'll have trouble getting ready", said Howard with a little hum of amusement in his voice.

"Are you ready now?", asked Vince, putting his hand down Howard's pants to feel.

"What do you think?", smiled Howard.

"You feel really ready", said Vince, Howard's cock between his fingers. "You get so hard, Howard".

“You make me hard", said Howard. "You're so beautiful, and you say such arousing things, you saucy little titbox".

"I'm just saying what I think", said Vince, pulling Howard's pants down, over his hips and thighs. "Can I now, Howard?".

"Mm, please", said Howard. He held his cock out to Vince like an offering, and closed his eyes.

Vince held the base of Howard's cock in both hands, and looked at it. On the one hand, he wanted it like nothing else and couldn't wait; it was making him horny just thinking about it. On the other, it was so huge that there was a tiny spark of fear in his gut, a prudent little voice in his head saying _Oh fuck no_ that made him hesitate. Ignoring that niggling doubt, Vince shrugged and began kissing Howard's stomach, following the long line of a scar that ended near his groin.

"I don't really know what to do", Vince confessed at last.

"Lick it like an ice cream", suggested Howard. "Just don't try to put the whole thing in your mouth, or you'll choke". He leaned down, and kissed Vince roughly.

Vince curled his fingers more firmly around the base, and kissed it – the first thick inch of Howard’s cock to feel his mouth – then dragged his tongue from base to tip. He licked all over the head of Howard's cock, holding it between his lips like a wet kiss. Howard had said to lick it like an ice cream, so he swirled his tongue around the head as if trying to keep an ice cream from dripping. Vince had intended to take all of Howard in his mouth, all at once, as deep as he could manage, but he could see the wisdom of Howard's advice. He brought his mouth over the thick head, sliding his hands continuously up and down Howard’s shaft, trying to lick and suck in time with the movement. Howard made a noise deep in his throat, and his thigh gave a little twitch.

Vince glanced up at Howard under his long dark lashes as he licked the head, looking for a reaction. Howard grunted, and seemed as if he was about to tell Vince to stop, but Vince gave him a look to say _not yet_ , and kept going. Howard was leaking precum over his hands and into his mouth; it tasted unexpectedly sweet, almost like ripe sun-warmed fruit, and that lubrication helped Vince move his lips faster and faster on Howard's cock.

He had to stretch his lips just to fit the head in, and even the next couple of inches was going to be a struggle. Vince let his jaw and throat relax a bit more before he even attempted sucking down the shaft, but after a while he felt ready. He licked at the underside of the cock in his mouth, down a thick vein. Howard had been right – it _was_ harder work than he had imagined. He tried to make his mouth as wet as possible, remembering how Howard had sucked on him.

Howard put his hands on Vince's head; at first very gently, and then pushing on him demandingly, twisting his fingers into Vince's hair. His hands set a rhythm for Vince, and hearing Howard groan with pleasure made Vince feel good, even though his eyes were watering slightly.

"Fuck, Vince, that's incredible", Howard said breathlessly. He was almost undone by the sight of Vince's pink lips taking him in, his big blue eyes looking steadily into Howard's little brown ones. He was drowning in those blue eyes, he was gone, he was ... He heard Vince make a noise like a suppressed whimper.

"Okay, little man", said Howard firmly, pulling away from Vince. "That's enough for a first time". He took himself in hand and emptied himself onto Vince's chest.

"My turn now", said Howard, and he used his hand to bring Vince to the point where Howard's mouth could take over and finish the job. He got a damp cloth to clean Vince up, and kissed him again and again.

"I could have kept going", said Vince, trying not to look too relieved.

"You were in pain, Vince. I heard you", said Howard.

"Was I alright?", asked Vince.

"You were unbelievable, Vince", Howard said fervently. "I've never experienced anything like that before. You sent me nuts: it took me everything I had to stop. What was your first time like?". 

"Really good", said Vince. "You taste sweet and yummy, like apricots, and just the feeling of having you in my mouth is amazing. But your cock is so massive that I could hardly get my mouth around you, and after a while my jaw did get a bit sore".

"I'm sorry", said Howard, putting his arms around him. "I should never have let you do it; I knew it was wrong".

"No, please, Howard, please let me", begged Vince desperately. "I’ll be better next time. And I'll let you know when I need a little break, so I can keep going longer".

"I should have told you to take a break", said Howard guiltily. "It just felt so good that I was selfish. I didn't want you to stop".

"Next time I'll go right through to the end", promised Vince, wrapping his arms around Howard and cuddling up to sleep.

It felt like a long time since they had had any sleep … a long time ago, and far away on another planet. Howard was already asleep, and a moment later, Vince had joined him.

*********************************************************

"What are you two ballbags _doing_?", demanded Naboo crossly.

Howard and Vince blearily awoke in a silver dawn to find Naboo glaring at them.

"The amulet came back without you", Naboo went on. "So I had no idea what happened to you, and now I've had to come to Xooberon myself to sort this mess out. What do you have to say for yourselves, you useless pair of prats?".

"Naboo, you are looking good today", said Howard placatingly. "You been working out? You're looking taut, fit, and svelte".

"We love you, Naboo", cried Vince. "I don't know if we mentioned that. Love what you're about, you know, all the aspects of you."

"You're a powerful character", Howard added.

"Right that's it, you know what this means", said Naboo implacably. "I'm going to have to turn my back on you as my ultimate punishment".

He slowly turned his back on them, moving like a clockwork toy, before smoothly turning around to face them again a moment later.

"I hope you've learned your lesson now", he said severely.

"We have", said Howard.

"Definitely", said Vince. "We'll never do it again".

"Okay, get dressed, grab your stuff, and get ready to all hold hands so we can get back to Earth", Naboo ordered them. "I suppose you bummed each other so much you just forgot to come home".

"P'raps we did", said Vince cheekily. "Then again, p'raps we didn't".

"We won't bum and tell", Howard said piously.

Naboo looked at them long and hard.

"Yeah, you bummed", he said smugly. "At the very least, you _thought_ about it, didn't you?".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think it would be possible to have every Boy Scout badge in the modern scouting movement – there's just tons of them. So I pictured Howard having joined a traditional Baden-Powell scout group. That still means 64 badges, and quite apart from camping, canoeing, fishing, backwoods survival, camp cooking, exploring, tracking, orienteering, and woodcraft, Howard would also know how to fly a glider, row a boat, sail a boat, ride a bike, ride a horse, fire an air rifle, have knowledge of at least one martial art (boxing?), and swim to the level where he can be a lifesaver. That's not counting all the badges for arts and crafts, music, reading and writing, housework, astronomy, weather forecasting, cooking, child care, public speaking, first aid, fire safety, and so on. He is truly very accomplished! I think they would have been fine even if Banoo hadn't shown up. 
> 
> Many ancient languages didn't have a word for the colour "blue". Even today, there are several languages, such as Japanese and Breton, that don't have a separate word for "blue", so I thought it reasonable that the people of Xooberon (surely a more ancient culture than ours) don't have one either. Thus, Banoo describes his house as being the same colour as Vince's eyes. I presume that the language used on Xooberon is somehow magically translated for Howard and Vince so they see or hear English instead, while the people of Xooberon have Howard and Vince's speech magically translated into their own language. 
> 
> A note on the timeline for anyone who's been worrying about Vince's education. The adventure in the East End begins at 9 pm on Saturday November 25th, and ends around 8 am on Sunday November 26th. Dennis sends Howard and Vince to Xooberon for twelve hours as a reward, although on Xooberon it is sunset when they arrive (and they get home slightly late). They wake up at dawn the next day, which in London time is around 8.30 pm on Sunday November 26th. This gives Howard enough time to make or buy Vince a quick dinner and get him back to the boarding house by bedtime, ready to start school the next day. No school hours were missed or compromised on Howard's watch! And speaking of watches, Howard's wristwatch would have shown London time so he didn't lose track, until they both fell heavily asleep, having been through a lot.


	21. Maybe You're Gonna Be the One Who Saves Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get your skates on, because it's panic at the disco when Howard takes Vince on a double date. Warning for non-gory violence, treated comically, and homophobic language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me  
> And after all, you're my wonderwall.
> 
> Wonderwall – Oasis
> 
> I used to get so much shit about the way I dress. At art school I used to get beaten up for wearing make-up. There was an engineering block opposite who wanted to kill us all. Engineering students aren't really into make-up. ~ Noel Fielding

Vince and Howard didn't see much of each other after they got back from Xooberon. Howard had to arrange Tommy's funeral, and he and Dianne decided that it would be best to have a quiet midweek service in Tommy's home town. Howard insisted on a cremation – the thought of forcing Tommy under the ground again gave him nightmares, from which he woke in terror.

Since the time Tommy disappeared, both his parents had passed away, and his best friend Reg had died in America, but Howard managed to track down Tommy's sister Geraldine, his Uncle Baz, and several of his old mates who still lived in Brighton. Dianne suggested it would be best to tell everyone that Tommy's remains had been found and identified, and that due to their condition, it would not be possible to have an open casket.

For any questions, she coached Howard to say, "I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to that myself. I'm afraid we haven't been given much information by the authorities". Howard could see the sense of her advice, but thought it a shame he couldn't tell everyone how bravely Tommy had endured, while planning his escape, and doing everything possible to help the animals who were trapped with him.

At the service, Howard gave the first eulogy, and spoke about how Tommy had been a wonderful mentor to him at the zoo – more than that, a dear friend who he had greatly admired. He was relieved when one of Tommy's mates, Ace, got up and talked about the old days; the transport cafes, the street races, the road trips, the Whitsun riots. He had lots of stories about the fights Tommy had got into with mods, the girls who had pined after him, and his best mate Reg, who Tommy had been inseparable from.

At the end of the service, Ace threw Tommy's ashes off the pier while they listened to a recording of Gene Vincent singing _Over the Rainbow_ , which Geraldine had told Howard was one of Tommy's favourite songs as a teenager, from his favourite childhood movie.

Howard tried to reconcile his image of the lawless young rocker, and the tough-talking zookeeper, with the sentimental teen who yearned for rainbows and bluebirds, and the little boy who had been entranced by a bright, fairy tale dream world. He gave up, realising there was a lot about Tommy he would never know. Why had Tommy never mentioned Reg, for example?

Nobody cried at the funeral, which Howard thought Tommy would be pleased about. They had all shed their tears years before, and now said they were glad to finally get answers, say goodbye to Tommy, and put it behind them.

"It's nice to get some closure, you know?", Geraldine said, as she shook Howard's hand.

**********************************************************

Meanwhile, it was coming up to end of term, and Vince had a lot of homework to complete, as well as having to study for exams. There were also several pre-Christmas social activities, which Howard insisted he attend.

"These things are part of being young, Vince; don't let me take them away from you", he told Vince earnestly. "God knows I missed out on my own youth, I don't want you to miss out on yours".

Vince wasn't that interested, as Howard couldn't go, but not being a wallflower or a party pooper by nature, he dutifully went to all of them, and contrived to enjoy himself. There was a teenage disco held by the local council, where he danced with Leroy and Sally to East 17 and yearned for Howard, and a Christmas dinner and party at the boarding house. The boarding house also arranged a trip to the cinema to see _Jumanji_ , which made Vince feel homesick, and one to the panto to see Danny La Rue in _Aladdin_ , which made him sigh for Xooberon.

At least he and Howard could email each other every day, with Howard wishing him good luck with everything, and urging him to both work hard, and to relax and have fun, sometimes within the same sentence. Howard seemed to love hearing about Vince's life, even the most banal parts of it.

Twice a week, Vince would walk to the phone box so he and Howard could talk – each time, they would make each other laugh until Vince's stomach hurt, and then end with a whispered _I love you_ that made that same organ flip-flop. Their secret code in both email and on the phone was _Remember Planet X_ ; a reminder never to forget their shared future, and all its possibilities.

*******************************************************************

The one thing Vince remained resolute about was that Howard had to take him to the roller disco when Bollo was deejaying there, so Howard said he would take him that Friday. He agreed that Leroy and Sally could come with them, thinking it would look less as if he and Vince were on a date if they went with friends. As it turned out, Sally wasn't an experienced skater, and Leroy took her to the beginner's area where he held her hand as they skated around slowly and carefully, Sally with one hand brushing the barrier.

Because of this, Howard had to admit that it looked very much as though he and Vince were on a date together. Vince was wearing gold satin hot pants, a tiny black tee shirt with _Vixen_ written across it in gold sequins, and neon pink leg warmers. He had a lot of make-up on, including eyeliner and red lipstick, and his dark blond hair had been given a feather cut, with loose ringlets around his face.

"You look like Farrah Fawcett", Howard teased him, as they skated around the dark roller disco together to Donna Summer singing _Hot Stuff_. Howard was wearing old jeans, and the tee shirt Vince had given him. He was slightly embarrassed that he and Vince were both wearing black and gold shirts, like a couple in matching outfits.

"So ... that means you think I look sexy?", grinned Vince, doing a quick figure eight and then spinning around under the coloured lights in front of Howard, in a way that seemed designed to flaunt his buttocks, surprisingly full and round for someone so thin.

Privately, Howard thought Vince looked incredibly sexy – far too sexy to be out in public. He was very aware of the lecherous glances Vince was attracting, and even some envious looks directed at Howard for being out with such a beauty. He wondered uneasily if they knew whether Vince was a boy or a girl, and whether they cared.

Howard tried to stick close to Vince to protect him from unwanted attention, but Vince was a swift and skilful skater, and Howard was getting tired just keeping up. He held on to the barrier and shook his head to mean that he needed a break. Vince skated up to him and held out his hand to Howard, so that the two of them began skating hand in hand, Vince going much slower to allow Howard to rest. The looks Howard received became even more envious.

After a while, Leroy came over, and asked Howard if he would mind helping Sally for a bit so Leroy could do some proper skating. Howard agreed almost with relief; Vince was so maddeningly sexy that he worried he was going to get a stiffy in public. He rolled over to the beginner's area, which was mostly filled with children skating with their parents or older siblings.

"Hello, Sally", Howard said kindly. "I hope you don't mind skating with me for a while".

"I'm such a bad skater, Howard", said Sally plaintively. "I feel like the person in an adventure movie that's a burden to the others, and then they always say to go on without them because they'll slow them down".

"Now that is an absolute fallacy", said Howard, taking Sally's hand; he held it the way you hold onto a child, not with interlinked fingers like with Vince. "I've led many expeditions, and a group always travels at the rate of the slowest member of the party. Nobody is ever left behind on my watch".

"Really?", asked Sally, looking up at him as they began skating; Howard was more than a foot taller than she was. "But what if they had a twisted ankle or a broken leg?".

"If you twisted your ankle, I would support you until you recovered. If you had a broken leg, I would administer first aid, make a stretcher, and we would take turns carrying you until we reached our destination or could find help", replied Howard.

Sally wobbled a little, and he straightened her up with a hand across her shoulders.

"Just bend your knees a tiny bit more, Sally", Howard said, "and remember never to look at your feet. I did that the first time I skated, and promptly fell flat on my face".

"Oh, no! Did you hurt anything?".

"My dignity", Howard replied. "And I lost a tooth, but it was coming loose anyway".

Sally bent her knees more, which made her lean forward slightly. She found that skating was now a bit easier, and holding Howard's hand gave her a sense of security, so she tried a short glide.

"You're doing better already", Howard said with satisfaction. "I think you'll be a good skater in a few months, if you practice".

"You're Vince's boyfriend, aren't you?", asked Sally shyly.

"Yes", Howard answered. "But I'd prefer it if you kept that private".

"Of course, Howard", said Sally. "I do think Vince is lucky though, because you're very nice".

"Thank you, Sally. That's a kind thing to say", said Howard politely, but he held her hand a bit tighter, and gave her a tiny smile.

Howard hadn't had much to do with girls in his life – at school he had been terrified that he was supposed to attract one somehow, and by the thought of them jeering at him. Even now, teenage girls made him nervous: they were still quite likely to go around in gangs and call out rude things to him. But being with a sweet kid like Sally made him wish he'd had a little sister to protect and guide, or that he'd made more effort to become friends with girls when he was at school. There had probably been ones like Sally that he'd ignored, or sidled away from in fear, and he'd missed out on another dimension of human companionship.

**************************************************************************

"So you know the deejay?", Leroy asked Vince, as they did a bit of shuffle skating to _Disco Inferno_.

"Yeah, that's Bollo – we've been friends for years, and then I found out he's a friend of Howard's too", Vince explained.

"I don't know why you didn't just tell me you were friends with a gorilla", Leroy said. "I mean, you grew up in a forest. It's not that surprising. You didn't have to make such a mystery of it".

"Sorry Leroy – I worried you might not believe me, or that you'd think it was weird", Vince confessed.

"Are you joking? It's really cool", Leroy said. "Why don't you introduce us, you berk?".

They skated over to where Bollo was flipping records at a turntable. Vince made the introductions, and Leroy requested Bollo play _Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe_. He asked Bollo to dedicate the song to Sally, with love from Leroy.

Vince suddenly felt someone grab his arm so hard it hurt, and when he spun around on his skates, it was a large, beefy man with a nasty expression on his face.

"I can't tell if you're a girl or a pansy", the man said with a harsh laugh.

"Which one were you hoping I was?", asked Vince calmly.

The man's eyes bulged furiously.

"Not that it really matters", Vince went on. "I wouldn't be interested in you either way".

"Come here, you weedy little poof", the man said angrily, pulling Vince towards him by the shoulder. "We'll go outside, and you can learn to take at least one thing like a man".

Vince didn't have a chance to respond before the man had a three hundred pound gorilla fly at him, and went down like the proverbial sack of shit. Bollo shrieked wildly in the man's face as he bit him on the arm.

"Why do you care about some little queer?", the man groaned in honest amazement, trying to get up.

There was the noise of squealing skates across the floor, and then someone shouted:

"Because that 'little queer' is _my boyfriend_!". Howard punched the man in the face, and he went down for a second time. "And don't ever fuck with him again, you arsehole".

"Because he my friend!", roared Bollo, throttling the man. "He delicate flower!".

"He's the strongest, bravest man I know!", yelled Howard, boxing the man's ears. "You're lucky he doesn't like violence, or he'd be ripping you to shreds with his bare hands right now". Howard slid onto his bum as his skates went from under him.

Leroy felt he wasn't pulling his weight, so he kicked the man in the crotch as hard as he could, and fell over. If you've ever been kicked in the crotch by someone wearing roller skates, you'll know this was by no means the least of the man's injuries.

*********************************************************************

They all got thrown out of the roller disco, and were banned for life. This was hard on Sally, who had done nothing wrong – all she knew was that Howard had suddenly left her holding onto the barrier, and sped over to the dee-jay's station, looking like an avenging angel with a moustache.

"I apologise for getting you banned, Sally", Howard said awkwardly. "And er ... I hope you will pardon my language. I don't usually speak like that in front of ladies".

"That's okay, Howard", said Sally. "I don't really like roller skating anyway".

She snuggled up to Leroy in the back of the van, who was embarking on his third retelling of how he had settled that bastard once and for all. Each time, Leroy's role in the fight had got larger and more dramatic.

"Sorry for getting you sacked", Vince said to Bollo. "You were amazing, by the way".

"That alright", Bollo reassured him. "New roller disco opening next year. Have put in job application, and got interview on Monday".

"And as for _you_ ", Vince purred to Howard, "your behaviour was absolutely disgraceful. Brawling in public like a yob, and swearing like a sailor".

Vince gave a smug grin, knowing that Howard had not only defended his honour, but yelled out to an entire crowd of people that Vince was his boyfriend. Vince thought this might possibly be the best night of his life.

***********************************************************************

"Good morning, Hackney Gay and Lesbian Legal Advice Centre. My name's Tim. How can I help you?".

"Um, hello Tim. I'm twenty-seven, and I've got a seventeen-year-old boyfriend".

"Okay. Can I ask your name, please?".

"Er ... Tom", said Howard, holding the phone in a hand that had already become sweaty.

"Tom, are you aware the age of consent between males is currently eighteen?".

Howard was annoyed that Tim sounded like a teenager himself, before he realised this was the sort of volunteer work that law students were likely to do.

"Yeah, I do".

"Okay, just checking. And how long have you been with your boyfriend?".

"We met a couple of months ago, and I suppose it's been quite serious for about a month".

"When you say serious, do you mean there's sexual contact between you?".

"Well, a bit ... but we haven't actually had sex", said Howard. "Doesn't that make a difference?".

"Not necessarily", said Tim. "Can I ask what you mean when you say you've had sexual contact, but not sex?".

"We haven't had anal sex", said Howard in a furtive voice.

"Right. Tom, did you know that when the law talks about sex between someone of age and someone below the age of consent, it doesn't just mean anal or vaginal sex?".

"No, I don't think I ever thought about it", said Howard, his throat dry.

"Just to be clear, it means any sexual activity at all, including showing pornography to the person below the age of consent".

"We watched _Midnight Cowboy_. Was that wrong?".

"No, that's okay. Sex would also include you gratifying yourself in front of your boyfriend, or you gratifying him".

"I didn't know that counted", Howard said miserably. "I mean, I was only doing that so it wouldn't progress to ... something more serious. I thought I was doing the right thing. Or the ... less wrong thing".

"You probably wish you'd made this phone call a bit earlier", said Tim, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah".

"The law comes down hardest when sexual penetration has taken place", continued Tim. "That has a penalty of up to fourteen years in prison".

"I wouldn't get out until I was past forty!", said Howard in shock. "But I already said, no anal penetration".

"Right. What about oral penetration?".

"Well ... er ... yes, I mean I have with him a few times, and he with me once, but I didn't come".

"I'm afraid that doesn't make any difference, legally", said Tim.

"Er, what prison sentence would I get without the er, penetration?", asked Howard nervously.

"Oh, that's a significantly lighter sentence", said Tim encouragingly. "Ten years at the absolute most".

Howard didn't feel particularly encouraged.

"And they'd take all factors into consideration. Your boyfriend's age, the age gap between you, if any drugs, coercion, or use of force was involved".

"My God, this is my _boyfriend_ you're talking about!", said Howard in horror. "Do you think I'd drug and force myself on someone I love? Not that I'd do that to _anyone_ ".

"Sorry, Tom, these are just the sort of things that would come up at a hypothetical trial", Tim said. "I wasn't meaning to suggest that you'd do anything like that".

"So what could happen to me?", asked Howard anxiously.

"From everything you've said, you sound as if you'd be at the lower end of offending, and most likely would receive a relatively light sentence", said Tim. "Probably no more than five years, and possibly as little as six months".

Howard wondered if Vince would wait five years for him, if he was sent to prison.

"But you need to remember that for a trial to go ahead, someone would need to provide evidence of sexual activity between you and your boyfriend. Most likely your boyfriend would have to testify against you. Does that sound like something that might happen?".

"I can't imagine him ever doing that", said Howard.

"You'd be surprised what can happen if a relationship goes sour. And Tom", Tim continued, "the relationship with your boyfriend definitely sounds illegal. He's under the age of consent, and the relationship has become sexual, up to and including penetration".

"Yes, I'm aware of that", said Howard. "That's why I'm calling you for legal advice".

"The advice I'd have to give you at this stage, Tom, is that you end the relationship with your boyfriend, or at least stop having sexual contact with him".

"This law is completely unfair", Howard said petulantly. "Why should we be treated differently because we're both male?".

"I know, Tom", said Tim sympathetically. "We're working on it, believe me. A lot of advocacy goes on behind the scenes. But it might take a few years before we see any change in the law".

"A bit late for me, then", said Howard.

"Now Tom, do you need legal representation in regard to this case? Have you been charged with an offence, and does anyone else know about your relationship?".

"No, I haven't been charged with anything", Howard replied. "We've told a few friends, but without giving them any specifics".

"And your friends have been supportive?".

"For the most part, yes", replied Howard.

"Do your boyfriend's parents know about your relationship?".

"He's ... lost his parents. His foster-father lives in the country, so doesn't know much about it".

"Mm, probably best to keep it that way", Tim advised.

"And ... last night I shouted out in a crowd of people that he was my boyfriend".

"Right, okay", said Tim. "And why did you do that?".

"We were at a roller disco, and my boyfriend was getting hassled by a very unpleasant fellow".

"When you say hassled, do you mean sexual harassment, or was your boyfriend targeted for being gay or bisexual?".

"Um, well ... it was definitely the second one, and maybe some of the first", said Howard. "He threatened to beat my boyfriend up for looking like a girl".

"And why did this seem like a good time to tell everyone about your boyfriend?".

"I got a bit worked up", admitted Howard. "You know, while I was punching the snot out of the guy".

"Are you quite sure you don't need legal representation?", asked Tim in concern.

"The police just said it would be a fine", replied Howard. "The bloke didn't want any trouble, and the others involved got off completely".

"Why's that?".

"One was a minor – my boyfriend's best friend. The police just cautioned him. The other was a gorilla, and not subject to human law".

"What? An _actual_ gorilla?".

"Yes, he was the deejay at the roller disco. He bit the creep, and tried to strangle him".

"Sounds like this guy picked the wrong person to harass", said Tim. "But when it goes to court, you're going to need legal representation. We can organise that for you, if you come into our office in Lower Clapton. You'll have to us give your real name then, of course".

"Tom really is my name", protested Howard. "It's one of my middle names".

"Oh, I see", said Tim. "I thought you'd picked Tom just because my name's Tim".

"Yes, I should have really gone with my other middle name", said Howard.

"Well, er, Tom ... to sum up our phone call. I'm advising that you should come in and get access to a solicitor for your upcoming court case, and that you should stop having sexual contact with your boyfriend until he turns eighteen".

"But you see ... I'm in love with him", said Howard piteously. "I can't just stop seeing him, and I don't think he'd agree to it, either. He's ... he's very fond of me as well".

"I'm sorry, Tom", said Tim.

Howard thought Tim sounded as if he really did feel sorry for him.

***************************************************************

Coincidentally, Vince also had a phone call on Saturday morning.

"Yeah, hi Bryan. How are you?".

"Splendid, my dear child. And how goes it? Are you still in love?".

Vince giggled, saying, "Urgh, Bryan!".

"I take it that means _yes_ ", said Bryan. "And did this paragon ever return your affection? I understand there was some doubt attached to that at one time".

"You're winding me up", said Vince, sounding both pleased and embarrassed. "But yeah ... I'm pretty sure they love me back".

"Well, that is excellent news, my child", said Bryan, his tone lightly teasing. "I wondered whether your beloved would care to spend Christmas with us? That is, if their parents permit it".

"Oh wow, really?", squealed Vince. "Are you sure it's alright, Bryan?".

"I thought you might enjoy showing your beloved your childhood home", said Bryan. "And I think it is high time I met them, would you not agree?".

"That would be brilliant", said Vince excitedly. "I know you'll like them, Bryan. They're so clever, and funny, and a good cook, and they love animals, and music, and -".

"Yes, yes, I am sure they possess every possible virtue", said Bryan in amusement. "If they do not mind such a casual invitation, perhaps you could convey to your beloved next time you meet my wish that they join us for the Yuletide celebrations".

"Of course I will, Bryan", said Vince. "But ... don't you want to hear more about them, first?".

"I expect you have a very subjective view of them, my dear child", said Bryan. "I would only learn that they had hair like long strands of toffee, and eyes like melting chocolate, and skin like dimpled cream, and lips like ...".

"Funny thing is, they really do have long toffee hair and little eyes like chocolate buttons and creamy skin", said Vince. "But they're very different to the usual person I've been with. They might not be what you expect".

"That is often the way when we meet our true love", said Bryan complacently. "Why do we not leave it so that meeting your beloved is a delightful surprise for me?".

"Okay", said Vince doubtfully.

"Now, would you like me to pick you and your beloved up in London, as I usually do for Christmas?", asked Bryan.

"Nah, that's okay, Bryan", said Vince. "They've got their own vehicle. We'll drive down together, and give you a break for a change".

"They sound very mature and independent", said Bryan approvingly. "I think you are suited to someone like that, Vince, in the long run".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The details about Tommy's life given at his funeral are a potted history of the rockers. Rockers typically met at transport cafes on the edges of the city, from where they organised street races or long road trips together. The Whitsun riots between mods and rockers took place in Brighton in May 1964, when Tommy would have been in his mid-twenties – and still a real tearaway, by the sounds of it. Gene Vincent was a favourite singer of the rockers, and he released "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" in 1958, when Tommy would have been 17-18. This is another connection between Tommy and being gay/bisexual: in fact, rockers had a very strong influence on the leather aesthetic in the gay scene during the 1970s.
> 
> Tommy's friend Ace is named after the Ace Cafe, a famous rocker hangout that is still going. His friend Reg is named after Reggie from "The Leather Boys", a 1960s book/film about two rockers who are in love. In the story, one of the couple leaves for America, while the other stays in England, unwilling to commit to an openly gay relationship. That's what I imagine happened to Tommy's best friend, who my head canon says was his first and perhaps his only love (although of course Tommy was very fond of Howard). 
> 
> The conversation between Howard and Tim can be taken as artistic licence, and just an excuse to have a massive info dump without writing another scene where Howard goes to see a lawyer. I don't know what advice Howard would really have got from a legal centre. I'm pretty sure they don't tell you anything much over the phone anyway, but are just a point of contact for the office (although in pre-Google days, you did get a lot of information over the phone). 
> 
> I don't know what would have happened to Howard for fighting in public either, but a quick squiz at a UK legal site confirmed that a fine is the most common penalty for assault that doesn't kill or maim anyone, with no weapon involved. The law is generally pretty lenient on violent crimes, and unfortunately, the man at the roller disco probably wouldn't have had any very awful punishment if he'd beaten Vince up. Er, not that I'm suggesting you take the law into your own hands, or anything. 
> 
> An interesting but little-known fact is that the gold hot pants Vince wore to the roller disco were sold at a flea market a few years later. Here they were bought for Kylie Minogue's music video for the disco-inspired "Spinning Around", where they became an instant fashion icon. To this day, Vince takes credit for Kylie Minogue's fame, although he insists the hot pants looked better on him. Howard agrees, but I don't know about anyone else.


	22. Sweet Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard takes Vince for a Sunday drive in the country, where they run into an old frenemy of Howard's, and Vince discovers Howard has yet another secret career. Warning: chapter includes schmoop, waffiness, tooth-rotting fluff, a bit of snuggly smut, and bad poetry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I wanted was a sweet distraction for an hour or two  
> Had no intention to do the things we've done  
> Funny how it always goes with love, when you don't look, you find  
> But then we're two of a kind, we move as one 
> 
> All Time High – Pulp 
> 
> There's nothing I'd like to do more than buy a van and drive about the country [with Julian]. ~ Noel Fielding

The weekend after the roller disco, Howard took Vince on a Sunday drive in the country – the one Vince had promised they would have as soon as their mission was complete. Howard had been a bit distant since the roller disco incident, and acted as if he had something on his mind, so Vince was thrilled when Howard asked him on the phone if he still wanted to go for a drive.

"Yeah! I'd love to, Howard; that'd be genius", Vince said excitedly.

"Good", said Howard, sounding a bit nervous. "And er ... Vince? Maybe try and look slightly less eye-catching than usual. We don't want to scare the villagers".

Vince giggled, and promised he would dress down for the occasion.

"Then I'll pick you up ten-thirty Sunday morning", said Howard.

When Howard arrived, he could see that Vince had done his very best. He wasn't wearing any make-up, his hair was neatly brushed, and he was wearing his winter coat, jeans, and brogues. His only accessories were the blue and silver scarf and the arrow-shaped brooch Howard had bought him on Xooberon.

"You look great", said Howard, leaning over to quickly brush his lips against Vince's. "Really nice".

Vince wondered when his heart would stop doing that stupid fast-beating thing whenever he felt Howard's moustache against his top lip, and why he got so excited at being told he looked great or nice. They weren't brilliant compliments, but somehow, they were from Howard. Maybe it was the way they sounded in his deep, creamy voice, or the way his eyes never quite met Vince's when he said them.

Howard didn't drive towards Epping this time, but in the opposite direction. This meant a lot of time in heavy traffic, driving through boring suburbs. When Vince asked if he was bothered by the other vehicles, Howard said he didn't mind – he felt at home on the road.

"It's in my blood, Vince. I moved around a lot when I was young, you see. I mean, I lived with my parents in Leeds, but on weekends I'd stay with my grandparents in Wakefield. That gave me a sort of spiritual wanderlust, a kindship with the nomads of the world".

Vince had brought some tapes, and he put on Gary Numan's _The Pleasure Principle_ for them to listen to. He'd also brought a bag of Raspberry Bootlaces, but Howard said he'd spoil his appetite for lunch eating sweets. Vince said he'd skipped breakfast again and was already hungry, so Howard just rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.

"Are we there, yet?", Vince asked, after almost an hour of driving.

"Very nearly, Vince", said Howard, as they approached a ring road. "Less than half an hour to go".

The heater had kicked in by now, and it was warm in the van. This was very welcome, because the weather in December had suddenly turned sharply cold, which came as a shock after the endless heatwave of baking summer, and the mild autumn they had experienced.

Once they reached the Chilterns, Vince perked up at the sight of wooded hills all around them, as they drove down country lanes lined with wintry fields, dotted with charming thatched cottages. He realised this was the sort of countryside that Howard had originally imagined Vince had grown up in, and smiled to himself at the vast difference between this and the forest.

"It's pretty", he said. "Like a picture in a story book".

"You know, there's a good college around here", Howard told him. "You could always apply to study art there if you like the area".

"Oh, I've got my heart set on Saint Martin's", said Vince. "And I couldn't leave London – that's where you are".

"Nothing wrong with having a back-up plan", said Howard. "And if you wound up in Buckinghamshire, I'd come with you, of course".

"Really, Howard? But what would you do here?", asked Vince.

"Get a job in High Wycombe", replied Howard promptly. "Or maybe I'd study too, as a mature student – we could be penniless students together".

"That'd be genius", grinned Vince.

"The point is, Vince, don't pick a college or uni based on where I am. Choose one wherever you like, it could be in Aberdeen, or Dublin, or Auckland, or Vancouver. Wherever you want to be, that's where I want to be too. Once you turn eighteen, that is".

Vince could hardly believe that Howard would be so willing to change his entire life for him, or even put it on hold for three years while Vince completed a degree. They'd only met a couple of months ago, and yet Howard was already willing to make a huge sacrifice to be with Vince. Vince perhaps did not consider that Howard wouldn't think abandoning his current life was much of a sacrifice.

Howard parked outside a tea shop on a village high street where all the shops and houses were Tudor style. They had just reached the front steps when a tall man with curly hair who was leaving the tea shop bumped into them.

"I beg your pardon", he said politely, before exclaiming, "Oh, Howard! Fancy meeting you here. How are you, old chum?".

"Very well indeed, Simon", Howard said, rather coolly. "This is my friend Vince".

Simon shook Vince's hand, saying, "I suppose you're a jazz musician, like all Howard's friends".

"No, I'm at college, studying art", said Vince.

Simon's eyes lit up.

"You know, I hold theatre workshops for college students all the time. Doing one at at the college here, as it happens. Which college do you go to?".

"Clapton Art College", said Vince.

"I'm doing one there early next year. My name's Simon McFarnaby – here, take my card. I'm always on the lookout for aspiring young actors and actresses. I'm a bit of a talent spotter, actually".

Vince took the card, but said he didn't have any theatrical ambitions.

"Well, maybe just do a workshop for fun then?", said Simon. "Great for confidence, and people skills too. I can tell you'd be a natural".

Vince said he'd think about it, and then Simon said he had to run or he'd be late for his own workshop.

"Bye Howard – nice running into you. We must catch up some time", he called back as he jogged away to his car.

Howard told Vince to sit wherever he liked, and he'd order for them both. The tea shop had several rooms for customers to eat in, and Howard found Vince in a cosy snug, the right size for two, curled up on an armchair in front of the fire. He had taken off his coat and scarf, and was reading a copy of _The Face_ with a shirtless pouting Leonardo Di Caprio on the cover.

Howard found himself entranced by the sight of the blond boy in a sleek white jumper, his pale cheeks made rosy by the fire, pink lips pursed over what he was reading, dark eyelashes swept down towards the page. For a moment he allowed himself to just watch Vince, hardly able to believe that he had kissed those cheeks, and that those lips had been on his many times.

"You've picked a great place to sit", Howard said as he took the armchair across from Vince.

"Oh hey, Howard", Vince smiled as he looked up.

Vince's slow smile, as if he'd just discovered something wonderful, always gave Howard a pleasant ache in his chest. That he could evoke such a smile was something else he could barely believe.

"You didn't seem that happy to see your friend Simon", Vince said, putting the magazine down.

"We didn't part on very good terms", said Howard, shrugging off his coat, and settling more comfortably into his armchair. "Simon was doing a play, and he made it sound as if he'd written the lead role for me. But in the end, he ended up taking it himself".

"What a berk", said Vince. "Were you very disappointed?".

"Yes, it was always my dream to be an actor", replied Howard. "But perhaps I wouldn't have been very good anyway. And just before that, I got a contract to write a novel, so I probably couldn't have taken on both things at once".

"What? You wrote a _novel_?", said Vince in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me? I want to read it!".

"No, I only wrote the first sentence", admitted Howard. "That was enough to get me a contract, but somehow I could never write any more of it".

"Howard, you've _got_ to finish writing that book", said Vince. "You're so clever and good with words – it will be the greatest novel ever written".

"I suppose I'd better have another look at it", said Howard. "Maybe inspiration will strike. Again".

Their lunch arrived, brought to them by the woman who owned the tea shop. There were sausage rolls and a pot of tea for Howard, and for Vince, spinach and cheese pastry triangles, and a mug of hot chocolate.

"This is proper hot chocolate, not out of a packet", said Vince, going straight for the sweet item.

The hot chocolate was topped with a swirl of whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and tiny coloured marshmallows shaped like love hearts. Vince dipped one finger into the cream, and sucked it off, grinning cheekily at Howard. This just about drove Howard to the brink, never dreaming that watching him put sausage rolls in his own mouth was having a similar effect on Vince.

There was a bowl of sugar lumps on the table, and somehow, with the wordless language of lovers, the two of them had decided that each lump meant 'I love you'. Vince put three sugar lumps in his mug, to mean that he loved Howard three times over. Howard didn't have sugar in his tea, but he took three cubes of sugar and put them in his breast pocket, patting them to show they were near his heart.

Then Vince began rolling the sugar lumps as if they were dice, miming great excitement whenever he "rolled a double six", and then could take Howard's sugar lumps. The two of them giggled like children as they played their imaginary game, Howard betting cautiously, and Vince winning again and again until he had a wall of white sugar cubes as his own.

Howard thought anyone who knew him would be stunned to see him playing a childish game with his teenage boyfriend, laughing until his face hurt, more joyful than he'd ever been in his life. He'd never had a particularly happy youth, but he was having one now.

As they left the tea shop after lunch, they walked past an old-fashioned sweet shop, and Vince's eyes became so big and longing that Howard said they'd better go inside and see what they had. Vince asked for liquorice allsorts, coconut ice, nougat, and lollipops from the hundreds of big jars displayed on the shelves, almost jumping up and down in excitement until the man serving them smiled at him.

"I wish _my_ big brother had treated me this well when I was your age", he said to Vince.

"He's brilliant", grinned Vince. "He makes a great breakfast and all".

Howard looked away shiftily as he asked for barley sugars to keep in the glove box of the van.

Afterwards, Howard drove to a nearby wood that was open to the public, with hiking trails across the hills. It was so cold that they were the only ones there, and they walked under the bare trees, wet brown leaves beneath their feet. Howard was wearing a hooded pea-green waterproof coat, and Vince thrust his hand into Howard's pocket for warmth. He and Howard held hands inside the pocket, smiling at each other as they made up weird stories about all the happenings in the wood to entertain themselves.

When Vince said he was too cold to keep walking, they went back to the van, where Vince snuggled into Howard in an effort to get warm. The tip of his nose felt cold against Howard's cheek, and Vince's hair smelt fresh and woodsy. Howard reached over to the glove box to take something out.

"This is your Christmas card, Vince", he said shyly.

The card showed two people travelling in a horse drawn sleigh over snowy fields, a night sky filled with sparkly glitter stars above them. The driver of the sleigh was a big man with a moustache wearing a brown coat and hat; the second figure, who was cuddled under his arm and wearing a blue coat and red scarf, was small and blonde with rosy cheeks, of indeterminate age and sex.

Inside the card, Howard had written a poem:

 _I never thought I'd ever love_  
_Someone as beautiful as you_  
_And what a sweet surprise it is_  
_That you could love me, too._

 _I've loved you all the autumn days_  
_I love you when snow lies on the ground_  
_And I'll only love you more and more_  
_When spring comes around._

It wasn't exactly John Keats (it wasn't even Joyce Kilmer), but it made Vince so ecstatic that little teardrops glistened on his eyelashes, and he threw himself into Howard's arms for a kiss. He knew what Howard was saying: Vince turned eighteen in the spring, and then Howard would be free to love him as much as he wanted.

Howard kissed Vince gently at first, almost chastely; innocent kisses that you give to someone you're not allowed to touch. But images of Vince sucking whipped cream off his finger began intruding, Vince dropping three cubes of sugar to say _I love you, love_ _you, love you_ , Vince smiling and charming and beaming with sunshine until Howard didn't notice the cold day, Vince licking a lemon lollipop, Vince's lips stained red by Raspberry Bootlaces ...

Howard groaned, it had been such a long time since Xooberon, and he scooped Vince into his lap and gave him a good old-fashioned snogging in the deserted car park, Vince's pointed little face cupped between Howard's large hands. After a while, Vince said that he was cold, so Howard suggested they move into the back.

"It's even colder there", Vince pointed out.

Howard smiled, and told Vince to look in the back. He craned his neck, and saw that Howard had completely filled the back of the van with a small mattress, duvets, and blankets – layers and layers of bedding to keep Vince warm and comfortable.

"I can't believe it – you've turned the Kombi into a shaggin' wagon", cried Vince as he hurled himself over the back of the seat and landed on the mattress in a seductive pose, one arm behind his head.

"It's not a shaggin' wagon", said Howard, getting into the back more carefully and lying beside Vince. "It's just that we were going for a drive, and you never know what's going to happen on the road. And I was worried about you getting cold".

He encouraged Vince under a pile of covers, and suggested they continue snogging in a more comfortable position.

"You're so dodgy, Howard", teased Vince. "Buying a schoolboy lots of sweeties, and then luring him into the back of your van".

"I didn't lure you, just asked you to take a look", Howard said. "And I didn't buy sweets so you'd snog me, but because you like them".

"No, no – whenever I'm bribed with sweeties, I always pay up", said Vince with a grin, putting his mouth against Howard's. Howard thought Vince tasted of chocolate, raspberry, and lollipop as he kissed Howard again and again: many times, to pay for the many sweets Howard had given him.

"You know, even before I met you properly, this was one of the first fantasies I had about you", Vince told Howard.

"What, that I'd take you to the Chilterns for lunch?", asked Howard in surprise.

"No, that you'd grab me off the street and drag me into your van", said Vince.

"You didn't even know I had a van", said Howard.

"Mm, but in my fantasies you did", Vince explained. "It was Mrs Andrews gave me the idea".

"Mrs Andrews from the bakery?", asked a puzzled Howard.

"Yeah, she warned me to keep away from you, made it sound as if you were a perv into teenage boys", Vince said.

"But she only saw me once, for a few minutes!", Howard objected.

"She said you were giving me the eye, and looking well shifty", grinned Vince.

"I was so careful _not_ to look at you", said Howard.

"Mm, shifty", agreed Vince.

"I swear Vince, old ladies know everything", said Howard. "They've got a sort of hotline to God".

"Anyway, after Mrs Andrews said that, I walked home, all scared in case you kidnapped me and put me in your van", said Vince. "Only, a part of me sort of hoped you'd do exactly that".

"You'd been reading too many novels, I expect", said Howard, running his hands down Vince's slim hips and sturdy thighs.

"Actually I was reading a novel where people went around catching children in a van", said Vince. "I started it in the summer holidays, and still hadn't quite finished it. A beautiful lady did it, all seductive and motherly and buying them sweets, and then they were snatched away".

"Sorry you didn't get a beautiful lady, then", said Howard, as he kissed Vince's neck.

"You're a million times better", Vince assured him, hooking one leg over Howard's hip and shucking off his coat. Howard didn't reply, but pulled Vince closer into his body.

"Howard, did you really think I was sexy at the roller disco?", whispered Vince into his ear.

"You were the very peak, the pinnacle, the perfection of pulchitrude", Howard murmured back.

"I don't know what that means", Vince said. "It doesn't sound nice".

"It means you were so sexy you were making my cock twitch", said Howard, rubbing himself against Vince. "Like now".

Vince gave a sighing little moan into Howard's chest, and Howard started unzipping Vince's jeans. He knew Vince didn't really like being felt up through jeans, and the quicker he could get into his pants, the better. Howard held Vince in his hand, and rubbed him until he was glistening and wet, still kissing him all the while.

Howard undid his own trousers, and put his cock into Vince's willing hand, letting Vince know he really needed him, and had been thinking about this for so long. Vince's strong hand, his soft mouth, his tongue moving against Howard's, his hand moving in rhythm. Blue eyes, long eyelashes, blond hair, high cheekbones. Vince in gold satin hot pants, spinning around, chocolate raspberry lollipop cream cream sugar sugar sweetness hot pants hot stuff Vince sucking his own finger oh cream cream cream cream cream cream cream ...

Howard could hear Vince's voice crying _Howard_ and _please_ and _don't stop_ and _oh fuck_ and _oh yes_. Afterwards Howard cleaned Vince up with his tongue, and asked Vince if he minded doing the same with him. He liked the greedy look Vince got, as if this was more sugar and sweeties and cream for him.

"Do you still think I taste like ripe fruit?", Howard asked him.

"Nah, it just tastes like cold jizz", Vince grinned. "It's only your precum that tastes sweet".

"And how did you know what jizz tastes like?", teased Howard.

"Ate my own", said Vince briefly, pulling his jeans back up. "See what it was like. Doesn't everyone, when they're young?".

"I never did", said Howard virtuously.

"That's because you went straight to sucking cock", giggled Vince.

"I hope what I said at the ... er, moment of impact was okay", said Howard. "You know, calling you my sweet baby. It didn't sound too pervy, did it?".

"You worry way too much", Vince replied, putting his arms around Howard. "I love it when you're pervy. And I love being your sweet baby".

Howard cuddled Vince close and kissed him gently. He knew Vince wanted a little sleepie, but they couldn't do it here, they'd get too cold, and Vince might catch a chill. Vince could sleep in the van on the way home, once the heater had begun working.

"Vince, there's something I need to talk to you about", began Howard.

"Oh can I go first, please?", begged Vince. "I've been bursting to tell you, but Bryan wants you to spend Christmas with us in the forest, so he can meet you. Can you, Howard? Please say yes".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments on the weather in 1995 are accurate. That year, the UK had one of the hottest, driest summers on record, with a heatwave that went on for a month during July/August. After a generally mild, dry autumn, the UK then experienced one of its coldest winters in 1995/1996, with the weather making a sudden change in early December. By the events in this chapter, there had been enough snow to lie thinly on the ground, and the weather was very chilly. I have stuck generally to the weather patterns for that year, but have not followed it to the date – if I wanted rain or fine weather on a particular day in the story, then I made it happen. 
> 
> The village they visit is West Wycombe in Buckinghamshire, just outside High Wycombe where Noel went to college to study art (the college has since become a university). The sweet shop is real, the tea shop is fictional, and the woods are very vague, but basically real. Howard wears the same coat that Stitch does in "Sweet".
> 
> The novel Vince had been reading about child-snatchers is "Northern Lights" by Philip Pullman, which came out in the summer of 1995.


	23. Christmas is Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Vince head down to spend Christmas in the forest with Bryan Ferry. If you've thought that Howard has been having it far too easy for too long, he's about to come up against a protective, slightly scary, and extremely stylish foster-dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here I am and Christmas is coming too  
> And I don't intend to spend Christmas without you 
> 
> I Don't Intend to Spend Christmas Without You – Saint Etienne (Claudine Longet cover)
> 
> He can't drive. And he can't read maps. So when we started out I had to drive him around, and he couldn't navigate, so he was just this big hairstyle in the front seat. ~ Julian Barratt

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Vince?", said Howard worriedly.

"Yeah, Bryan said he wanted you to come, so he could meet you", said Vince. "Just relax".

The two of them were driving in the van towards the forest to spend Christmas with Bryan, Vince navigating. There'd been a stressful few minutes when Vince told Howard to take a particular road he was looking at, which Howard later identified as a Raspberry Bootlace lying across the map. After that, he kept asking Vince if every road he suggested was really Raspberry Avenue.

Howard had picked Vince up at the end of term. He had worried about going into the boarding house, but it was absolute chaos, with students getting collected by parents, older siblings, other relatives, family friends, or even sometimes by their boyfriend or girlfriend. Nobody noticed Howard, cared who he was, or what relationship he had to Vince – they just wanted everyone to pack and get out.

Vince's room looked like a bomb had hit it, and Howard had to help him pack everything efficiently into suitcases and boxes, strip the bed, and take down posters and pictures from the walls. Vince's side of the room was completely covered with pop band posters, such as Blur and The Rolling Stones, ones for Bristol City F.C., pictures of fashion models of both sexes he'd cut out from magazines, photos of animals collected from _The Totally Wild Show_ Fan Club, and art postcards of Dali prints (plus the Van Gogh one Howard had given him).

Howard had a moment of misgiving when he looked at Vince's bed, which had sparkly sequinned throw cushions, and stuffed toys all over it. Was it right that his boyfriend still had a teddy bear on his bed? Did Vince still sleep with his teddy, did he need to cuddle it so he could sleep at night? He wondered fretfully if Vince was really old enough for a relationship at all, let alone one with an adult.

They stayed in London that night, Vince sleeping at Howard's flat. Howard was relieved that Vince didn't bring his teddy to bed, although he still fretted that he himself was just a teddy bear substitute when Vince snuggled into him, sleeping with his arms around Howard and his head tucked up on Howard's shoulder.

Vince had no such worries – everything was genius. All the Christmas holidays ahead of him to be with Howard, and going to bed with Howard now. Being kissed goodnight by Howard was amazing. He sighed happily, and was asleep in less than a minute.

*************************************************************

"Does Bryan even know you have a boyfriend, not a girlfriend?", asked Howard.

"Nah, he didn't ask", said Vince easily. "Honestly Howard, you're worrying about nothing. Bryan isn't the sort of person who's going to freak out if his foster-son is bi. He was part of that whole androgynous glam rock movement in the 1970s".

"Eh? What do you mean?", asked Howard.

"Oh yeah – I forgot I hadn't told you", said Vince. "Look, I probably should have said something before, but my foster-father is Bryan Ferry".

"That's funny. He's got the same name as the pop star", Howard chuckled.

"No, Howard. He actually _is_ the pop star Bryan Ferry", Vince said.

Howard looked at Vince with something like pity, and something else rather like fear.

"Now Vince, you know that just isn't possible", said Howard gently. "I don't know if this is a story Bryan told you for fun, or what, but he can't be the actual Bryan Ferry and live in a forest. I mean, Bryan Ferry is still touring, for a start".

"That's right", said Vince. "He went on tour just after half-term, and phoned me from Antwerp. He's back now, though".

"But ... but ... he records albums all the time", said Howard. "He can't do that in a forest".

"He doesn't. He goes up to London for that. Sometimes he stays there for weeks or months while he's recording", said Vince. "Or he combines recording an album with an overseas tour".

"And I read about Bryan Ferry in magazines. He's got a wife and kids, a country estate", said Howard. "They'd notice if he lived in a forest most of the time".

"That's just a cover story so the press don't bother him", said Vince. "If he said he was Lord of the Forest, they'd be all over the place, taking pictures, writing articles about it. This way, he can say his family deserve privacy, he sends them a few posed photos of himself once in a while, and everybody's happy".

"Vince, this is by the far the maddest, most surreal thing you've ever told me", said Howard solemnly.

"Yeah, and those other things were all true, weren't they? So this is as well", said Vince, with the air of having explained everything fully.

Howard wasn't sure he'd explained anything at all.

**********************************************************

The countryside became wilder and wilder as they drove further away from London. At last Vince pointed out the turnoff, and Howard drove down a heavily rutted lane completely overshadowed by huge trees, which ended when they arrived at a sign reading THE FOREST OF DEATH.

Howard gave Vince a quizzical look, to which Vince responded, "It's just a name. Look, here's Bryan now".

Out of all the strange experiences Howard had had with Vince, he thought the very strangest of all was seeing Bryan Ferry, immaculately dressed with a red satin cummerbund and white tuxedo jacket, come down the ladder of a little house in the treetops. He waved once, and then stopped as if frozen in his tracks.

As Howard and Vince got out of the Kombi, Howard looked at Bryan, and his expression was not one of delighted surprise.

"Bryan!", shrieked Vince, launching himself into Bryan's arms. "Bryan, this is my boyfriend, Howard Moon. Howard, this is my foster-father, Bryan Ferry".

Bryan held out one cold hand for a formal hand shake with Howard, saying "How do you do, Howard", with stiff politeness.

"Er, good to meet you, Mr. Ferry", said Howard awkwardly. "Um, nice forest you've got here, sir. I like ... uh, those icy ferns under the tree".

"Vince, my child, let me help you with your things", said Bryan. "We have to get you unpacked".

Howard unloaded the van, while Bryan and Vince carried the bags in and unpacked them. Howard thought it might be more tactful not to barge into Vince's bedroom to help put his underwear away, so after making sure everything was in the house, he put the van in the garage and busied himself with some small tasks to do with its maintenance before reluctantly picking up his own small bag and climbing the ladder into the tree-house. It was steep and hard going, especially carrying luggage, and he wondered at the way Bryan and Vince were able to nip up and down it without a care. Little wonder Vince had grown up tough, agile, and fearless.

Howard had thought he would need to stoop inside the tree-house (he often needed to bend his head inside perfectly normal houses), but to his surprise he could easily walk upright. He looked around, and saw a comfortable lived-in room with well-worn armchairs and sofas, arranged around a red brick fireplace that had flames blazing brightly against the chill of the day. There was a thick Persian carpet covering the floorboards, and the walls were papered over with bus tickets and some of Vince's paintings. It wasn't quite what he had expected.

"Please, sit down and make yourself comfortable", said Bryan, silently appearing beside Howard and making him jump. "Vince my child, come and help me prepare the refreshments. And you must tell me how you and Howard happened to meet. I have been _so_ curious".

Howard sat in the living room and felt strangely sweaty despite the cold weather. He started biting his nails – a habit he had broken himself of at the age of ten. A few minutes later, Vince and Bryan came out carrying a jug of celery juice and glasses, a bowl of Twiglets, and some guacamole to dip them into. They arranged them on the coffee table, and Bryan poured Howard a drink.

"This celery juice tastes really ... er, green", Howard said after his first sip, unable to think of any other polite way to describe it.

"All green food is beneficial", said Bryan. "But Howard, Vince tells me that I owe you a great debt of gratitude. He says that you saved his life by frightening off some thugs, and then administered him first aid".

"Oh well ... I probably didn't save his actual life", blushed Howard.

"Then you saved him from a fate worse than death", said Bryan. "Thank you Howard, for rescuing my dear child. It is much appreciated, especially the fact that you were able to handle things discreetly, so that Vince was not placed in an embarrassing position with the college, and my name was not dragged into the papers".

"It was nothing", said Howard, feeling hot and uncomfortable.

"Howard saved me again at the roller disco", piped up Vince, and that story had to be told as well. Bryan said that Howard had done the right thing in protecting Vince's honour.

"I am afraid my dear child has been something of a trouble to you", Bryan said smoothly.

Howard was quick to reply that Vince had saved him from Baboo Yagu in the sewers below London, and proved himself both a valiant warrior and clever diplomat.

"Vince forged a secret alliance with a mermaid he met at a folk night, and it was this that turned the tide for us in the battle", Howard said. "You should be very proud of him".

Bryan seemed stunned to hear that they had defeated Baboo Yagu, and that Vince was largely responsible for that. He gave Vince a hard look though, because he had expressly warned him to stay away from the green devil.

"I know what really happened to Jahooli", Vince said to Bryan. "I know he was taken by Baboo Yagu. You should've told me the truth".

"Oh, my dear child", said Bryan. "I wanted to spare you the terrible worry of not knowing your friend's fate. For someone to disappear is worse than their death for those left behind".

"It's okay, Bryan", said Vince in a subdued voice. "Someone told me what happened to Jahooli. He died pretty much straight away".

"My poor child", said Bryan, distressed. "I truly believe Jahooli himself would have wanted you to think he died peacefully in the forest".

"He was very old", said Vince. "The man I spoke to said he would have died anyway, and at least there was someone there for him at the end".

"Mr. Ferry, sir", Howard interjected. "Baboo Yagu told Vince that he killed all his family, and then later we found a memorial in the East End saying a family named Noir were killed the same day Vince came to the forest. Does that seem possible to you?".

"That is something I have never heard", said Bryan, looking troubled. "But there had been many animals disappearing around that time, and after Vince came, it suddenly stopped, only starting up again a few years ago. Perhaps somebody did drive the demon away, at the cost of their own lives, leaving their child here for safety".

"Do the names Bernard, Alice, Sylvie, and Max Noir mean anything to you?", asked Howard.

Bryan shook his head. "I do not know them", he said, rubbing between his eyes as if trying to smooth out a frown line.

"I've done a bit of investigating", Howard said, "and I can't find any record of those names anywhere, except on the memorial. It's as if they came from nowhere and disappeared without trace".

"If they were French, couldn't the records be in France?", Vince suggested.

"I suppose so", Howard said. "Do you know anything more about it, Mr. Ferry, sir?".

Bryan took them to the place on the wall where the now faded bus ticket he had found near Vince could be seen. Howard examined it, but couldn't see how any more information could be gained, except that someone had once caught a bus from Bethnal Green to Stepney on Vince's third birthday. Had they deliberately left the ticket behind as a clue?

Bryan also showed Howard the tag that had been hung around Vince's neck. The handwriting was clear and neat, but even though it was written in English, Howard thought there was something foreign about it. It seemed too elegantly flowing and flourishing to be the work of an English person. To him, it appeared feminine, and he wondered if either Alice or Sylvie had written it.

Again, it didn't seem to tell him very much. The person who wrote it knew at least some English, and were familiar enough with the everyday language that they urged the reader to _take care of this kid_ , not _this child_. They had surely read _A Bear Called_ _Paddington_ , and perhaps hoped that the tag would evoke feelings of sentimental nostalgia in the person reading it, that they would want to take Vince into their lives and their hearts, and love him the way Paddington's family had loved him.

Howard thought there was something trustingly naive about the whole thing that suggested a young person had left Vince to be found, and wondered if Sylvie was Vince's mother after all. She and Max had gone to their deaths at the age of twenty-one, and it was unbelievable there was no proof they existed except on a memorial stone in an old cemetery.

"I wish there was a way of finding out more", Howard said discontentedly.

"Well, you two _have_ had some adventures together", Bryan said, in a way which suggested the topic was now over. "I do thank you for taking care of my little muddlehead".

" _And_ Howard gave you the recipe for that guacamole", added Vince.

"Thank you again", said Bryan. "Be careful, Mr Moon, or you will soon find yourself indispensable to us".

Howard wasn't sure how Bryan managed to make that sound vaguely threatening, but he did.

*************************************************************

After their refreshments, it was time to put up the Christmas decorations; Bryan always waited until Vince got home from school to do that. Vince and Howard went into the forest to find a Christmas tree, pulling a big wooden sled behind them like two draught horses. When they found the perfect fir tree, Howard dug it out of the frozen soil, being careful not to damage the roots, so it could be planted indoors in a tub and continue growing.

"It's freezing", Howard said, stamping his boots and rubbing his mittened hands for warmth.

"Yeah, it's cold here", said Vince, "but you should see it in the summer, Howard. It's genius. Even on the hottest day, it's so cool in the forest your breath comes out in a cloud".

They gathered other evergreens to add to the sled, then spent the rest of the afternoon decorating the tree and the house. There was a box of decorations that had all been made by Vince in years past – gold angels cut out from chocolate wrappers, and little drummer boys fashioned from wine corks. Vince made strings of paper chains and tin foil snowflakes for the tree, while Howard hung dried oranges, cinnamon sticks, baubles, and tinsel. At the top was a fairy queen in a white gauze dress – one of Vince's dolls from when he was little.

Vince put up his Christmas cards – he had received more than fifty from friends and well-wishers, including Bryan, Leroy, classmates, old school friends, teachers, Mrs Andrews, and Wendy. Bryan looked at the one from Howard and read the poem inside without saying anything.

Vince had painted Howard's Christmas card himself in a cartoonish style. The front of the card showed Howard and Vince driving in the Kombi van across a snowy landscape, smiling happily. Little red love hearts flowed all around them. Inside it read: _merry_ _xmas howard darling thanx 4 evrything, with luv from your little man Vince xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_. The back of the card showed the van from the rear: it had a lopsided sign across it saying IF THIS VANS A ROCKIN DONT BOTHER KNOCKIN.

"Just a joke", Howard hastily assured Bryan.

"Yeah, some friends of ours once thought we were bumming in the van, but we weren't", said Vince.

"Really? I wonder what caused them to imagine that?", said Bryan, his eyes fixed on Howard. "I suppose you must have had been many places in this van together".

"Oh well, nowhere much really. Shadwell Basin, Epping Forest, the Chilterns", said Howard. "I thought in the spring we might take it to do some hiking or fishing".

"Vince can do all the hiking and fishing he wants here in the forest", Bryan said with finality.

They hung a wreath of evergreens on the front door, and garlands of holly and ivy around the window frames. Vince hung bunches of mistletoe in every doorway, and when he and Howard happened to be in front of one together, he leaned in for a kiss. Unfortunately, it was at this exact moment Bryan came out of the kitchen between them. Howard froze, then gave Vince a quick peck on the cheek, his face burning red.

"Dinner is ready", said Bryan with an inscrutable expression. "Vince, my child, your hair is in disarray". He patted a single strand of hair into submission, and picked a tiny piece of tinsel off Vince's jumper, telling him there was no need to sit down to dinner looking like a street beggar.

They ate dinner in the warm kitchen. Bryan had made mushroom and walnut patties, mashed potato and pumpkin, and steamed kale, with soya milk rice pudding for afters. They drank ice cold spring water. Howard could see why Vince got so excited over his cooking: the food was plentiful and wholesome, but not exactly a taste sensation.

Over dinner, Bryan began the interrogation that Howard had feared. How old was Howard? Where in Yorkshire was he from? Where did he live? How long had he been in Dalston? Had he been to university? Why had he dropped out? What was his profession?

"I'm in a jazz band", replied Howard. "Well, it's jazz-funk fusion actually. And I do deejaying as well, mostly village fetes and teacher training colleges".

"Ah! A jazz musician", said Bryan with interest. "I am a great fan of Chet Baker – he had such a wonderful sense of style. Duke Ellington too, always looked elegant".

"Howard is a John Coltrane fan", Vince said proudly.

"Very passionate, very intense", Bryan commented. "Your soul must burn with an unquenchable ardour to be devoted to Coltrane".

"Coltrane was really a quiet, gentle man", said Howard.

"Outwardly", said Bryan, with a careful look at the quiet, gentle Howard. "And what was it about my dear child that drew you to him, Howard?".

"Oh, you know", said Howard vaguely. "We just sort of clicked".

"And what form did that clicking take, would you say?".

"You don't need to keep asking Howard all these questions", broke in Vince. "You're acting as if I'd brought home some dodgy stranger, but Howard is really a friend of the family".

"Oh? How so?", enquired Bryan.

"He's a friend of Bollo", said Vince, licking rice pudding off his spoon. "Known him for years".

"And how do you know Bollo, Howard?", asked Bryan.

"I used to work at a zoo", replied Howard, not noticing the frantic gestures Vince was making. "Bollo was one of the animals who lived there".

Bryan immediately sprang to his feet, slamming his chair into the wall.

"A zoo! A prison house for animals, a place where animals live in torment and misery, unable to roam free", said Bryan angrily. "That is where you worked?".

"Look, I don't know what kind of zoo you're thinking of, but the animals were happy and well cared for", said Howard. "I know, because I was the head zookeeper".

"Let me guess – it was a really good zoo, with very caring zookeepers, but it went out of business and now it is a bypass", sneered Bryan.

"The business side of things was certainly mishandled by the new management", agreed Howard, "but that had nothing to do with me".

"How dare you come here?", raved Bryan. "How dare you come to the peaceful Forest of Death, spreading your dogma of animal cruelty? How dare you tell me that wild beasts need to be kept in cages for the sick entertainment of humans?".

"Settle down, Bryan, you psycho", said Vince. "He doesn't even work in a zoo any more, and the zoo closed down years ago. And Howard was a good zookeeper".

"So you believe you understand animals, and know how to take care of their needs?", said Bryan challengingly.

"Yes, I do", said Howard steadily. "I was trained by the greatest zookeeper in the world".

"Good, then you can come out and help me tend to the animals", said Bryan calmly. "Vince, please clear the table and do the dishes while we are gone, dear child".

************************************************************

Howard grabbed his thick winter coat, mittens, hat, and scarf before following Bryan outside. Bryan merely adjusted his bow tie a little, but carried a lantern on a long pole to give them light.

"Isn't it too cold in the forest for some of the wild animals you have here, such as leopards and monkeys?", asked Howard.

"Yes, in winter", said Bryan. "Some hibernate, but I have also built shelters for them".

"Vince said the forest is chilly even at the height of summer", said Howard.

"That is only partially correct", said Bryan. "Where we live is the very deepest, darkest, wildest part of this ancient forest. Under the trees, it remains cool even on the hottest days, but the forest is vast, and there are many open areas that are warm and sunny. I believe last summer it was just as warm here as it would have been in the animals' natural habitats. And they adjust to the cold too, just like people".

"That's true", said Howard. "My friend Mr Kapoor came here from India many years ago, and he said at first he thought the cold would kill him. But by his second winter, he already found it much easier to bear".

They arrived at some large outbuildings, which Bryan unlatched. Here were many of the exotic animals – Bryan had made artificial dens and burrows for them to sleep in, and Howard wondered how this was significantly different from keeping animals in a zoo.

He helped Bryan feed the animals, and put them to bed, tenderly tucking the monkeys under patchwork quilts, and covering the leopards with woollen blankets. The gazelles needed special care; they were flighty and sensitive, and Howard rubbed them down and groomed them so that they felt relaxed for bed. The reptiles were in hibernation, which Howard was glad about, as snakes weren't really his area. Bryan seemed satisfied with all Howard's efforts, especially when he noticed that one of the tigers had a sore paw, took out a tiny thorn, and bandaged it up with red flannel.

"I suppose as a strict vegetarian you don't believe in hunting, either", Howard said as he and Bryan walked back together.

"Quite the contrary", said Bryan. "Vince grew up knowing how to fish and hunt, as long as he hunted alongside beasts of prey, and the meat killed was only for the animals to eat".

"May I ask – when you found Vince in the forest when he was small, why didn't you take him to the correct authorities?", asked Howard. "They would have organised a foster family for him".

"When you found Vince outside the bar, why did you not take him to a hospital for treatment?", smiled Bryan.

"Oh well, you hear stories about busy London hospitals", said Howard uncomfortably. "I wasn't sure they'd give Vince the care that he needed immediately. He was unconscious, and completely helpless. I couldn't leave him with strangers who might see him as just another drunk kid".

"It was much the same for me", said Bryan. "You know, I do not mollycoddle Vince – he has had a hard life in the forest in many ways, but it is a clean life, a healthy life".

"The proof of his upbringing is Vince himself", said Howard quietly. "He has a brave, kind heart, and is nearly always sunny and cheerful. I think he is the most beautiful person I have ever met, inside and out".

Bryan stole a glance at Howard from out of his blue eyes, but said nothing.

When they got back, Howard very glad to be inside the warm house, they found Vince had cleaned up and made mugs of cocoa. He got out a game of Snakes and Ladders, and the three of them played a few games together in front of the fire.

"Oh genius, a ladder", said Vince, as he zipped up the board ahead of the others. But when he landed on a snake: "I always love getting a snake, because I think how fun it would be slide down one".

As he rolled the dice for his next turn, Vince continued, "Imagine how amazing it would be to play Snakes and Ladders with real snakes and ladders? I saw this movie where they played a brilliant game called Jumanji, where your house turned into a jungle filled with wild animals. It looked like it would be genius to play, and the best part was someone actually got to live in the game, for years and years. I'd love to have a game like that, if it existed".

Howard pointed out that the snake Vince was sliding down was actually a Raspberry Bootlace, and he hadn't landed on anything. Vince grinned, and ate the Raspberry Bootlace, gulping it down like a little turtle.

***********************************************************

At bedtime, Bryan said he would show Howard to his quarters. Howard picked up his small bag which he had stowed in the corner of the living room, and hastily said goodnight to Vince, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Bryan led Howard outside, and at first Howard thought he might be sleeping in a shed with animals. Which, when he thought about it, would have been the most fundamentally Christmassy thing he'd ever done in his life. But instead Bryan took him to another tree-house, much smaller than the main house, about five trees away.

"This is our guest accommodation", Bryan said, climbing the ladder ahead of him. "It is small, but I hope you find it warm and comfortable. I have already turned on the central heating".

He swung open the door, switched on the light, and Howard was suddenly hit with an overall impression of being in a dollhouse. The walls had candy pink striped paper on them, the curtains were pink lace, and the floor covered in a rose pink carpet. On the bed was a baby pink bedspread with a ruffled valance, and dainty frilled pink cushions with a rosebud pattern. On the pink scrolled bedside table was a pink lamp with a pale pink broderie anglaise shade. Above the matching pink scrolled dressing table was a mirror with a frame made from pink seashells dotted with pink pearls, and on the opposite wall were two Victorian-style prints of pink tea roses in dark pink frames.

"It's very ... pink", said Howard, when the shock had worn off slightly.

"I was expecting a seventeen year old girl", said Bryan with a wry smile. "I do not know much about modern young girls, but Laura Ashley seemed to think this would be suitable".

"I think this might be considered extremely pink even by teenage girls", said Howard.

"Well, it had to be more feminine than Vince's bedroom", said Bryan. "Of course, if I had known more about you ....".

"I'm sorry about that", said Howard. "I did suggest Vince give you some warning".

"I told him I did not need to know, that it did not matter", said Bryan with a hand wave. "Now perhaps I think I should have let him tell me more".

Bryan showed Howard the adjoining bathroom, which was tiny, just big enough for a shower, toilet, and basin. The bathroom was, thankfully, plain white, but there were pink towels, bath mat, and flannels, and a pink rosebud cup for Howard's toothbrush.

"Thank you, Bryan", said Howard. "This is all very kind of you. Overwhelming, in fact. But something puzzles me ... how is it that you can have plumbing in a tree-house? And how does the central heating work? And does Laura Ashley deliver to forests now?".

"You ask too many questions, Mr Moon", said Bryan Ferry with a mysterious smile, disappearing down the tree-house ladder into the night.

**************************************************************

Ten minutes later, Howard came out of the bathroom, having had a hot shower and changed into his striped pyjamas. He looked at the bed, which seemed to have an enormous number of quilts and duvets on it so that that it looked like a great mound. For a moment, Howard wondered if Bryan had been planning on testing Vince's supposed girlfriend, Princess and the Pea style. As he got in, he discovered the real reason why the bed looked like that.

"Alright, Howard?", said Vince with a cheeky grin, his blond head popping up on the pillow.

"Vince, what the hell are you doing?", said Howard in a furious whisper. "Get out, you little titbox, Bryan will kill me if he finds you here".

"I just want a cuddle", said Vince. "It's driving me mental, having you around and not even getting a snog. Give me a goodnight kiss, a proper one this time".

Howard began struggling with Vince, trying to get him out of the bed, while Vince slid out of his grasp like a fish each time, giggling and trying to embrace Howard.

At this inauspicious moment, Bryan came into the guest house, saying, "I thought you might like these extra blankets, Howard. It can get very cold ....".

He stopped, staring at them. It must be said that the sight of Howard and Vince struggling in bed together looked a lot like something else was going on.

"Vince, go to your room at once", said Bryan, putting down the blankets. "I am ashamed of your ungentlemanlike behaviour. And Howard, I did not think you would disrespect me under my own roof like this".

Vince climbed down the ladder, blowing a kiss to Howard and giving Bryan a cheery wave.

"I apologise for how that looked, Bryan", said Howard. "And I take full responsibility".

"Of course you are responsible", said Bryan icily. "You are an adult, Vince is not. And if Vince is accustomed to sleeping in your bed, that is entirely your doing".

"I think you're being a trifle unfair", said Howard. "Vince wasn't an innocent little child when we met. He was seventeen, and already sexually experienced".

"So my foster-son is some sort of cheap trollop you can do with whatever you like?", said Bryan in a rage.

"No, not at all", said Howard. "Just that he'd had a lot of girlfriends, and was experienced enough to know what he wanted, and what he didn't".

"The difference is that a teenage boy having girlfriends of the same age is both common and legal", said Bryan. "You seducing him is neither".

"I didn't seduce him", said Howard irritably. "We just got to know each other, and gradually ... well, eventually realised we were physically attracted".

"I think you have been very clever, Howard", said Bryan. "Very cunning, in fact. Always helpful, always at hand. Bringing my foster-son little gifts and giving him compliments until it seemed only natural for him to reward you with the kisses and touches that you craved".

"It didn't happen anything like that", protested Howard. "I promise you I've never pressured Vince, never made him feel that he owes me anything. We've never had sex, or done anything together that Vince hadn't already done before with girls".

"Do not take me for a simple country bumpkin, Mr Moon", said Bryan. "I have powers beyond your reckoning, and the law on my side, and if you ever do anything to hurt Vince, I will come after you with an implacable vengeance that shall make Nemesis herself seem sweetly forgiving, and the Furies a trio of gentle maidens".

"I would never hurt Vince", said Howard. "Never".

"Are you quite sure you are not hurting him now?", asked Bryan, as he exited the door with the tone of someone who believes they have delivered a crushing blow and got in the last word at the same time.

Howard got into bed, feeling quite crushed enough. He'd never been good at arguments, especially in his pyjamas, in a completely pink room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vince's football poster says he supports Bristol City FC, which may have been the junior club he played for semi-professionally. If so, this suggests that Vince and Howard attended a boarding school somewhere near Bristol. My cheeky head canon is that they attended Sexey's School, an improbably named co-ed boarding school in Bruton, Somerset, about an hour's drive from Bristol. It is a state boarding school so the fees are reasonable, but it still provides a good education (Howard seemed to think their school had a decent reputation considering how cheap it was). Sexey's has strong sporting traditions as well as artistic ones, and is less than two hours drive from the Forest of Dean, making it a good choice for Vince. It's unclear why Mr and Mrs Moon would have sent Howard there, but they are both teachers and only had one child, so they would have chosen his school very carefully. Possibly one of their friends was a teacher there who could keep an eye on Howard and make sure he was okay, and Sexey's seems to be quite a friendly, unpretentious school. Bruton is a pretty little town on a river surrounded by beautiful countryside, so Howard would have had ample opportunities to pursue outdoor activities there (and Bristol has jazz clubs where he might have played). It's notable that while Vince was a lot more popular at school than Howard, and probably a lot happier, neither of them seem to have had any issues with serious bullying, and both of them were successful at school in their different ways.


	24. Hopeful Christmas, Brave New Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big long Christmassy chapter, with all the trimmings. Warning: chapter includes a not very explicit, only slightly gory T-rated animal death, and discussion of hunting and hunting techniques, in line with canon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish you a hopeful Christmas  
> I wish you a brave New Year  
> All anguish, pain, and sadness  
> Leave your heart, and let your road be clear 
> 
> I Believe in Father Christmas – Pulp (Greg Lake cover)
> 
> I thought, "I could turn him into something halfway decent". ~ Julian Barratt 
> 
> I couldn't tell you what life was like before Julian. He made me. Out of scraps. ~ Noel Fielding

Howard didn't sleep very well after his altercation with Bryan Ferry. He worried about the mysterious powers Bryan said he had, and his threats of implacable vengeance. Most of all, he worried that Bryan was right. It had been wrong to get so deeply involved with Vince, and it was possible that being with him was doing some sort of harm. Vince probably was too young for all this. As he fell asleep, he decided he'd better leave first thing in the morning. The traffic would be awful on Christmas Eve, but he would still be able to reach his parents' place by the afternoon.

However, although Christmas is infamous for bringing emotional crises to a head and causing all sorts of drama, it also has the effect of encouraging people towards peace and goodwill. Even more importantly, Bryan had seen Vince's end of term report card, which had been excellent, filled with praise for his improvement. He could see that whatever else Howard might have done, his effect on Vince's education had been entirely positive.

Vince had a talk with Bryan, and told him that he had got into Howard's bed without his knowledge, as a surprise, and that a frightened Howard had been trying to get him out.

"You've got him so scared that he won't even snog me", complained Vince.

"Good", said Bryan with satisfaction.

"No, it's _not_ good", said Vince. "My boyfriend is here for Christmas, who you invited, and I should at least be allowed to hold hands with him. Last night, all I wanted was a kiss and a cuddle before bed, but Howard was terrified you'd come in and go mental".

"There is something about Howard I do not quite trust", said Bryan.

"It's just his shifty eyes", said Vince. "He can't help them. He's a good bloke, and we love each other, and nobody's ever made me feel like this before".

After some discussion, it was decided that Vince and Howard should be allowed to show some affection, but there would be no getting into bed together. And Bryan promised he'd try to be slightly less scary, and more welcoming toward Howard.

So when Howard got up, and came in telling Bryan he would be on his way, Bryan told him to sit down and he'd bring him a bowl of porridge with honey and soya milk, and Vince, who was still in his dressing gown, sat on his lap and told him not to be a berk. He'd spoken to Bryan, and everything was sorted.

****************************************************************

Looking back, Howard thought that his Christmas in the forest with Vince was the strangest and most magical of his life. After breakfast, Howard drove Vince into town to do some last-minute shopping, and then the two off them spent most of Christmas Eve cooking biscuits and making sweets until the whole house smelt of sugar and spices.

They made caraway biscuits, shortbread, and gingerbread men, some of whom were destined to be tree decorations, and others to be eaten. Bryan said gingerbread men were the only things with eyes that he ever ate. Then they made toffee, vanilla fudge, chocolate Nutella truffles, and rocky road. Vince brought out the nougat and coconut ice that Howard had bought him, which he'd kept, and Howard revealed that he'd been saving honeycomb and Turkish delight as a surprise.

Bryan said they would ruin their teeth and their appetites, and make a mess of his kitchen. But Howard, who was of course an expert at making sweets and biscuits from being a Boy Scout (because it's the only way to get a badge in Fund Raising, and everyone loves buying Boy Scout Biscuits), also knew how to pack everything tidily away and clean the kitchen as he went. Quite apart from his badge in Domestic Skills, he'd been well schooled by his mother and grandmother.

On Christmas Eve night, Vince asked Howard if he'd like to go for a sleigh ride, to which he eagerly agreed.

"I can drive if you want. I know how – I'm quite good with horses", Howard said.

"Nah, it's not a horse. Pulled by a deer", said Vince.

"A reindeer called Rudolf?", smirked Howard.

"Just a normal deer. And his name's Gavin", Vince said.

" _Gavin_?", said Howard in disbelief, but Vince told him to shush up, Gavin was coming. He was a big, powerful stag, and Vince soon had Gavin attached to the sleigh, tucking a huge bearskin rug over he and Howard as the sleigh began moving.

Being pulled in a sleigh by Gavin was different to being pulled by a horse, Howard found. For a start, there were no reins and nobody drove. Gavin pulled the sleigh wherever he wanted, however he wanted, although he would take suggestions from Vince, who occasionally called out, "Cool your boots there, Gav".

It was an altogether wilder experience, for Gavin had a tendency to leap through the forest, charging expertly between the trees. It was exhilarating hearing Gavin's hooves on the snow, for whatever the weather elsewhere, it always snowed heavily in the forest in late December, leaving a crisp blanket of snow like the icing on a Christmas cake.

After a while, Gavin told Vince he needed a breather, and stopped dead; he started nibbling on some moss growing on the trees. Howard found himself catching his breath. Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing madly through his veins, or the deep night sky sprinkled with stars, or the church bells ringing across the valley for the early service, but in the moonlight, Vince looked as beautiful as an angel beside him.

Howard drew Vince into his arms, holding him under the bearskin rug which kept them warm even in the snow. Their lips met beneath the curve of the moon, for whatever the moon phase elsewhere, in the forest it was always a full moon in a clear sky at Christmas. No matter the reason (adrenaline, stars, bells, moonlight), Howard began kissing Vince passionately, hungrily, desperately, as if he never wanted to let him go.

Gavin turned his head, and made a low noise, which Vince giggled at.

"What's he saying?", Howard asked.

"He said that's enough snogging, and if we start bumming in the sleigh he's going to kick over the traces and hoof it, and we can make our own way back".

As Gavin trotted home at a far more sedate pace, Howard held hands with Vince under the rug and asked what they usually did on Christmas Eve.

"It's always the same", replied Vince. "We watch Christmas TV and have mince pies with a glass or two of Baileys, then hang up our stockings over the fireplace before leaving out some treats for Father Christmas and his reindeer".

"You still ... hang up a stocking?", asked Howard.

"Every year", said Vince. "Father Christmas' feelings would be hurt if we forgot, because he's a good friend of Bryan. Bryan says we get preferential treatment, but I'm not sure about that".

Howard didn't say anything, but it is worth noting that he didn't automatically disbelieve Vince. He was starting to feel that everything he was told about Bryan and the forest might be true.

***********************************************************

On Christmas morning, Howard was woken by an excited Vince jumping on his bed, yelling at him to get up, Father Christmas had been. Father Christmas had left them a note, in beautiful copperplate handwriting, thanking them for the treats, wishing them a very merry Christmas, and saying that he'd made sure they were all on the nice list this year.

In their stockings they had a pair of Christmas-themed socks, a toothbrush, a bag of nuts, a sack of chocolate coins, and a satsuma. Vince and Howard ran around the tree-house laughing and having a satsuma fight in their pyjamas, until Bryan came out and told them to stop making such a racket, and they could clean up any satsuma juice stains themselves.

After breakfast, they opened their presents. First there were those under the tree – little things that Bryan had got them. Howard received a hand-knitted green beanie with matching scarf, a bar of handmade clementine soap, and a copy of _Walden, or Life in_ _the Woods_. Vince had a red beanie and scarf, a bar of marigold soap, and a copy of _The Horse Whisperer_. Howard examined the labels written by Bryan, but they didn't look like the handwriting on the note from Father Christmas.

When they exchanged gifts, Bryan had a brand new bow tie and cummerbund from Vince, and a jar of home made spicy Indian chutney from Howard. Howard had a beautiful vintage formal jacket from Vince, while Bryan had given him a copy of _More Than_ _This: The Best of Bryan Ferry + Roxy Music_. Bryan's present to Vince was two tickets to see Gary Numan at the London Astoria in March, but Vince couldn't believe Howard's present.

"Wow, Howard! You got me a mobile phone", Vince said in an awed voice as he unwrapped the box.

"Yes, it's a Nokia like mine, but it's smaller and lighter than the model I've got", said Howard. "I think you'll find it easy to use".

"That's a very generous gift", said Bryan, not sounding best pleased.

"It means Vince will be able to call me if he ever needs a lift or is in trouble", said Howard. "You can't put a price tag on Vince's safety. Besides, I got a good deal from a mate at Dixons".

"Vince could also just call a taxi", said Bryan. "And if he was hurt or in danger, he could phone 999 and get the police or an ambulance".

"I'd rather call Howard", said Vince, jumping into his lap and kissing him to say thank you.

The animals received presents and a special meal for Christmas, and that was almost more fun that opening their own presents. Howard and Vince got into their warm clothes and Christmas beanies and scarves, and helped Bryan hand out presents and food, breaking up the odd fight and scuffle that broke out in the process.

Christmas lunch was served on a table in front of the fire in the living room; Vince and Howard set the table with a white linen cloth, silverware, red candles, and lots of holly, ivy, and pine combs as decorations. The table runner spelled out NOEL, all in different coloured Gothic capital letters.

They had a lentil nut roast with parsnip gravy and chestnut puree, vegetarian sausages wrapped in vegetarian bacon, crisp and fluffy roast potatoes, and obligatory sprouts, followed by plum pudding with brandy and soya custard. Howard got the silver coin, showing he would make money in the coming year, Vince got the wishbone, meaning his wish would come true, and Bryan got the button, so he was destined to remain a bachelor for at least another twelve months.

After doing the cleaning up, Howard and Vince went for a walk together in the forest, strolling mittened hand in mittened hand, and having the occasional discreet snog behind trees just in case Bryan was looking out the window. They got back in time to hear the queen explain to everyone how we should all be trying to make more peace in the world than currently exists.

That night, Vince asked Bryan if Howard could put him to bed as a Christmas treat. After giving them both a suspicious look, Bryan agreed, as long as their hands remained on top of the bedspread at all times. Howard carried Vince into the bedroom, looking slightly self-conscious, and already quite guilty.

Howard lifted Vince into bed, and pulled the bedspread with a design of purple unicorns over him, carefully fluffing up his pillows, and putting the sequinned throw cushions onto a chair for the night. Vince made sure all his stuffed toys were in bed with him, and Howard picked up the teddy bear.

"I suppose you've had teddy for a long time", said Howard.

"A while. Bryan bought him for me when I was ten, as a memento after I killed my first bear", said Vince. "Bryan doesn't believe in sticking their heads on walls or anything, but he did make the fur into a rug for the sleigh."

"There aren't any wild bears in Britain", objected Howard.

"There are in the forest", said Vince. "Bryan's part of a conservation project to reintroduce every species that became extinct here. So far he's brought back bears, beavers, wild boar, Barbary apes, lions, and wolves. Next year we're getting elk and antelope".

Howard picked up a plush toy monkey, the type with long arms so they can hug you. "So you killed a monkey?".

"Well, they did try to steal my face", said Vince. "By killing their leader, I became a monkey king".

"You killed a _sausage dog_?", said Howard in horror, picking up a toy dachshund with a happy smile.

"No, a dangerous feral dog that was killing animals in the forest, a couple of years ago", said Vince. "Bryan bought the closest thing he could find at the toy shop".

"I'm guessing you didn't actually kill a dolphin, either", Howard said, picking up another toy.

"No, that's the first fish I ever caught", said Vince. "I was five, and it was really a trout".

Howard looked up at a shelf of boy and girl dolls, dressed in colourful outfits that Vince had sewn himself.

"Those don't represent people you've killed, do they?", he said worriedly as he gestured to the dolls.

"No, they're just dolls", Vince said, with an odd expression. "I played with them when I was a kid, but not any more".

"Sorry, sweetheart", Howard said, giving Vince a kiss on the forehead. "I've been a bit nervous ever since Bryan told me he has mysterious powers I don't know about".

"Well, he does really", said Vince thoughtfully. "I mean, he's in with The Country Alliance, and they're very powerful. And he's a member of the World Conservation Union, the National Trust, the British Ecological Society, Friends of the Earth, and the Campaign to Protect Rural England. And he's the patron of the Vegetarian Society, and for some reason he's big with the Royal Institute of British Architects, and of course the British Society for the Protection of Glam Rock. I mean, you do not want to mess with the Vegetarian Society, they'll be on your arse in seconds".

"I see", said Howard, wondering if that was really all Bryan had been talking about.

"Howard, would you sing me to sleep?", asked Vince, snuggling into his pillow. Howard kissed his cheek, and after a moment's thought, launched into the jazz standard,  _Lullaby of Birdland_.

_Lullaby of Birdland whisper low_  
_Kiss me sweet, and we'll go_  
_Flying high in Birdland,_  
_High in the sky up above_  
_All because we're in love_

Vince's eyes were closed, and as he finished the song, Howard gently kissed his parted lips before switching off the rainbow coloured bedside lamp, and softly shutting the door.

**********************************************************

The next morning, Vince woke Howard up before dawn for the traditional Boxing Day Hunt, which sounds cruel, but after all, dawn isn't until after eight in the morning at that time of year, so really he'd had plenty of sleep. It came as a shock to Howard though, who disapproved of fox hunting, but didn't want to arouse the ire of The Country Alliance. He thought maybe he could slink around quietly at the back, far away from any actual death, and at least enjoy horse riding on a crisp winter's morning.

As Bryan explained to him over breakfast though, they were hunting wild boar, which is properly done on foot. They would hunt alongside a pack of wolves, and carry spears and daggers as their weapons.

"Isn't that terribly dangerous?", asked Howard, turning white.

"We could all be killed", said Bryan seriously. "That's why it's the ultimate test of courage".

Hunting, like war, is a process of interminable boredom punctuated by moments of terror. Howard found that he had to trudge through the forest in the snow for wearisome hours, while Bryan and Vince nostalgically recalled past hunts, and eagerly looked for signs of wild boar. Vince and Bryan often spoke to the wolves, asking them if they could smell boar, and suggesting ways they could flush the boar out.

Bryan reminded them to keep up their strength with the food he had brought with him – thermos flasks of mushroom soup, and tofu and kale stew with rice. Noticing that Howard looked very pale, Bryan gave him a nip of whiskey from a silver hip flask, telling him it would warm him up.

At last, when Howard was freezing and exhausted and numb with tedium, the wolves said a wild boar had been sighted, and they would slowly drive it towards the humans while they stalked it, being careful to remain downwind. Howard grew paler, was given another nip, and then the frightening part of the hunt began, for they could hear the boar approaching them through the undergrowth with a low growl, and even the humans could smell it.

And then there was a high pitched angry squeal, and Howard barely had time for more than a moment of terror, as the boar broke through the undergrowth beneath them and charged straight at Howard. He'd had a short life, but a good one, Howard thought. Actually it had mostly been pretty rubbish, except for these past two or three months with Vince, but it was over now. He disappeared under the boar, who was ready to gore him to death.

If Howard hadn't thrown out his hands in self-defence, the story would be ending very soon, with a short epilogue to explain that Vince was heartbroken by Howard's passing, but was young and resilient, and his life continued, although every Boxing Day he laid a wreath of white roses in the forest where Howard fell, and wept for his first love.

Luckily Howard did throw out his hands, so that when Bryan and Vince dragged the two hundred pound boar off him and found his limp body drenched in blood, it was because the boar had impaled itself on Howard's dagger, and bled to death on top of him. Vince kissed Howard over and over again, until Howard regained consciousness, and held him close.

"I'm alright, Vince", he murmured.

"Oh, Howard – you're alive! And you killed the wild boar with your own hands", cried Vince. "You're so brave".

"It's because of you, Vince. You told me to throw my hands out in front, and it saved my life".

"Howard, I never said that", said Vince, stroking Howard's forehead. "Maybe you heard Bryan".

"There was no time for me to say anything", said Bryan. "I wish I had advised you in advance".

"Then one of the wolves said it", Howard said.

"You can't understand wolf language", Vince pointed out.

"Well, _somebody_ warned me", said Howard stubbornly. "And if it wasn't you, or Bryan, then it must have been a wolf. There's no one else here".

None of the wolves laid claim to this, but none would deny it either, so it remained a mystery.

Later that day, when Howard was cleaned up and had changed and was sitting in front of the fire with a cup of tea in his hand and Vince in his lap, Bryan told him he had proven himself most courageous, and presented him with a stuffed toy pig to represent the boar he had slain. The pig was small and cute, and wore a collar with a tag which read _Babe_ , but Howard kept him always as a memento of his valour.

***********************************************************

On the thirtieth of December, Bryan asked Howard if he would mind stepping into his office after dinner for a chat. Vince raised his head like an animal sniffing the air, and Bryan told him to clear the table and do the dishes while they were talking.

Bryan's office was surprisingly spacious for one in a tree-house, with a huge beech-wood desk and leather armchairs in front of the stone fireplace, the walls covered in gold, silver, and platinum records, and framed photos of Bryan with other pop, rock, and glam icons. Bryan went to the heavy oak antique drinks cabinet, pouring Howard a glass of port.

"I hope you are enjoying your time in the forest with us, Howard", began Bryan.

"Thank you sir, yes. You've been incredibly hospitable", replied Howard, sipping his port.

"I know we got off on the wrong foot", said Bryan, looking at the Turkish rug on the floor, "but you have been a great help with the animals, and kept the kitchen clean and tidy, and Gavin says there was not too much canoodling on Christmas Eve".

Howard blushed.

"And you proved yourself a mighty hunter, taking down a wild boar unassisted", Bryan continued. "I know you do not really like hunting, but it is not from lack of nerve, and the boar you killed provided the animals with meat, so it was very welcome, I assure you".

Howard mumbled something vague and modest.

"What does your father do, Howard?", asked Bryan conversationally.

"He's a Geography teacher", said Howard. "Worked himself up to head of the department at one of the best schools in Leeds".

"And his father?", asked Bryan.

"When Grandpa got back from the war, he became a journalist on the local paper. He was its editor by the time he retired", said Howard, not without a tinge of family pride.

"You come from clever, hard-working, ambitious stock", noted Bryan. "You must have ambitions of your own".

"Oh, well ... there's a few things I'm working on", said Howard, hoping Bryan didn't ask what they were.

"I am not one for beating around the bush, Howard, so I will come straight to the point", said Bryan. "What are your intentions in regard to my dear child?".

"Once Vince has turned eighteen and finished school, I intend to take him to Leeds to meet my parents", said Howard firmly, having anticipated this question for some time.

"Your parents know you are gay?", queried Bryan.

"We haven't talked about it, but we will very soon", promised Howard. "And I know they'll love Vince. And after that I intend to accompany Vince on his gap year travels through Europe".

"Do you have enough money for that?", asked Bryan bluntly.

"I have some money saved", said Howard. "And I know how to budget and travel frugally, and I can get work as we go. When Vince starts college or uni, I intend to support him while he studies, and when he graduates, I intend to take him to Mexico. And after that, I intend to be with him, in whatever way he wants me".

"In other words, you are asking me for his hand in marriage", said Bryan with a little smile.

"Vince and I can't get married, you know that", said Howard. "But I want to be with him as if we were married, and I want to be with him until ... until the day he gets sick of me".

"You might think my dear child is a pretty butterfly, lightly fluttering from one flower to another", said Bryan. "But in matters of the heart, he is deep and true. Once his affections are engaged, he is loyal to the end. Do not enter anything with the idea it will not last. You must be prepared to love Vince and stay with him forever, because I believe that is what he wants. Please, walk away from him now if you think this an infatuation that may only last a few years".

"I will love Vince always", said Howard. "And I will be with him just as long as he wants me to be there. Not a day longer".

"Do not ever break my foster-son's heart", warned Bryan.

"I give you my word as a Boy Scout", said Howard solemnly. "I will never hurt Vince or be untrue to him, and I promise to never leave him. And if he leaves me, I promise to let him go freely. I will never force Vince into anything".

Bryan looked relieved, but he said, "I will not deceive you, Howard. I am troubled by the age gap between you and Vince. You are ... older than your years".

"Yes, I know I look older than my age", said Howard impatiently. "But I'm not even thirty".

"Not only do you look closer to forty than twenty, but in your tastes, your habits, your demeanour, you are more like a man of fifty, or even older. Vince is very young, very lively. I worry that by being with you so early in life, he will miss out on his youth, and the fun of being a college student".

"I don't want that to happen either", said Howard. "I want Vince to have all the friends, all the parties, all the jokes and pranks and laughter he would have had in college if he hadn't met me. If you want him to live in student accomodation, that would be fine with me".

"As if he would not be living with you almost every weekend anyway", snorted Bryan. "I do not want Vince to be a financial burden on you, Howard. I know I live very simply in the forest, but I am a wealthy man, and I intend to settle a substantial allowance on Vince once he turns eighteen".

"That is very kind of you, sir", said Howard, "but Vince wouldn't have been a burden. It would be my privilege to work to support him until he can support himself".

"Well, that may not ever happen", smiled Bryan. "Do not expect too much from Vince in that regard. I would be more than satisfied if he was able to gain employment in a fashion boutique or hair salon".

"You know Bryan, you asked about my father and grandfather, but not about the women in my family", said Howard.

"I know, I am old fashioned", said Bryan complacently.

"My mother is a Maths teacher, and is now a deputy head teacher at the same school where my father works", said Howard. "And Nana was a full-time mother and housewife until Dad started school, then she began making her own jams, jellies, pickles, and preserves at home, selling them at markets on the weekends. Today, Nana Moon's Pantry is one of the most popular Yorkshire brands sold exclusively through Bugdens".

"Why are you telling me this?", Bryan asked.

"Because the men in my family aren't just clever and hardworking – we are attracted to those with ambition, and support them in their careers", said Howard.

"And you think my little muddlehead is going to make a name for himself?", smiled Bryan disbelievingly. "I have often heard that love is blind, but you are deluding yourself, Howard. Vince was not put on this earth to work hard, or be successful – he is like a vase of colourful flowers, just here to give pleasure and happiness to others".

Howard realised with shame that he had said something very similar to Vince, who had been thrilled by the compliment. This made him more emphatic than he otherwise would have been.

"With respect sir, I believe Vince has been consistently underrated for a long time", said Howard. "I think he's capable of much more than others believe, and more than he believes himself. He does have ambition, and talent, and he's able to work hard and improve himself".

"Well, Vince's report card is certainly much better since he began going out with you", acknowledged Bryan. "If you can turn him into a junior manager or something, you will have worked a minor miracle".

"I just want Vince to fulfil all his dreams", said Howard.

"I notice, Howard, that when I asked about your intentions for the future, you only talked about when Vince turns eighteen and has left school", said Bryan. "What happens until then?".

"I wait for Vince", said Howard. "Keep spending time with him, keep encouraging him".

"You know your relationship with Vince is illegal", said Bryan. "I cannot imagine you are happy about that, a good Boy Scout like yourself".

"I'm not happy about it", admitted Howard. "I wish things had been otherwise".

Bryan leaned forward in his chair.

"Howard, I am going to ask you to do something difficult. Please do not see Vince again until he turns eighteen. If you do this, you may spend the rest of your life with Vince with my blessing, and I will do everything I can to help both of you".

"And if I don't?", asked Howard. "If I continue seeing him?".

"Then I am afraid I have the force of the law behind me", said Bryan apologetically. "As Vince's guardian, it will be my duty to have you charged, and use all means at my disposal to pursue you until you are in custody".

"You know you would lose Vince if you did that", said Howard. "And Vince won't be able to stand being apart from me. He'll fall to pieces. I'm not sure he'll even finish school".

"If Vince is not mature enough to wait five months, then he is not mature enough for a relationship with you", said Bryan. "All I am asking is that you give my dear child a chance to grow up, as you should have from the beginning".

Howard sat in silence. Bryan had him trapped, and in his heart he knew everything Bryan was saying was fair and reasonable. Bryan didn't even have to warn him like this – he could have phoned the police or his legal team, and let them handle everything.

"Alright", he said at last. "I'm glad now I gave him the phone. At least we can still talk to each other whenever we want".

"I must ask you not to contact Vince, and to refuse communication with him while you are apart", said Bryan. "You know he will never settle down if he is constantly phoning you or getting your letters. He will keep begging and pleading with you to come back to him, and the hope of you doing so will stop him from ever accepting the situation, not to mention distracting him from his schoolwork".

Howard looked stricken, so Bryan said gently, "It is only for five months, Howard. You have shown me you are a brave man. I ask for one more act of courage from you".

*************************************************************

The next morning, Vince came into the kitchen, where Bryan was making potato cakes for breakfast as a special treat.

"Bryan, where's Howard? I can't find him anywhere. He's not in his room, and all his stuff is gone".

Bryan looked at Vince sympathetically.

"Howard has left, but he asked me to give you this letter before he went".

He handed Vince a sealed envelope, and Vince looked at him with suspicion, but sat down at the table to read the letter.

_My darling Vince,_

_I have gone to spend New Year with my parents in Leeds, and I will be staying with them for a while. I won't be returning to London for some time, so this means I can't see you until I get back._

_You know I have been unhappy for a long time about the fact that our relationship is not legal, and this is something I have been thinking about for a few weeks now. I was going to talk about it with you in the Chilterns, just before you invited me for Christmas._

_When you turn eighteen, you can make your mind up how you feel about me, about us. I can't ask you to wait for me, that wouldn't be fair, but I will be waiting for you._

_Bryan has asked that I don't contact you while I am gone, in case it interferes with your education and personal life, and I have agreed to that. Please don't blame this on Bryan. He loves you dearly, and cares about your welfare. He only wants what's best for you, and so do I._

_You're so strong and brave that I know you will be okay on your own, although please keep your phone handy so you can call a taxi or the emergency number in case something happens._

_I love you sweetheart. I hope you won't forget me, and I promise I will be thinking about you every night and every day. This is only goodbye for a few months, not forever._

_All my love,_

_Howard xxx_

_PS Remember Planet X._

Vince looked up from the letter, his face as white as the paper it was written on.

"You did this", he shouted at Bryan. "You made Howard leave. I thought you liked him!". His voice broke on the penultimate word.

"I do like Howard, dear child", said Bryan soothingly. "He'll make you a fine husband one day, but in the meantime, you are too young to be with him".

Vince began trying to hit Bryan, beating on him with his fists. Instead of fighting Vince off, Bryan held him closer and closer in a tight embrace, holding his hands to restrain him, and rocking him from side to side. At last, Vince stopped struggling and began sobbing, and Bryan hugged him and stroked his hair, for once not bothering about whether his shirt got damp or rumpled.

After crying his eyes out on Bryan's shoulder, Vince ran to his room and grabbed his new phone, dialling Howard's mobile number. There was no answer, and Vince somehow knew Howard would never pick that phone up again.

He rifled through his box of keepsakes, and found a piece of paper he had once thought was a waste of money, and then a silly souvenir of one special night across the universe. Vince smoothed the scrap of paper out, and lay it on the bed, reading it over and over again.

_He will return to you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baileys is a traditional drink to have at Christmas in the UK and Commonwealth, a bit like eggnog. I hope it doesn't shock anyone that Vince has been drinking Baileys every Christmas Eve as a long-standing tradition. In our family, we started drinking Baileys at Christmas around age 5, starting with a teaspoon in a sherry glass of milk, getting up to half a sherry glass by 12, and a full sherry glass by 16. I have a low tolerance for alcohol, and don't remember ever feeling drunk or ill. 
> 
> Bryan Ferry has reintroduced a number of species which had earlier become extinct in Britain. In real life, wild boar have gone feral in the Forest of Dean, and beavers been reintroduced elsewhere, and there have been suggestions that bears and wolves should be brought back as well, to improve the ecosystem. It is legal to hunt wild boar year round, and doesn't require a license, only the permission of the landowner. 
> 
> In real life, Bryan Ferry is fairly infamously a supporter of The Country Alliance. It is canon that Bryan and Vince hunted and fished together in the Forest of Death during Vince's childhood, but also ties in with the real Bryan Ferry's connections to hunting. I know hunting and animal deaths are upsetting for many readers, but I tried to make it unglamorous at least. 
> 
> Their hunting techniques on the boar closely resembles those used in the Middle Ages, although with wolves instead of dogs. Like Bryan, in medieval times they used hunting boar as a test of courage, and also to hone their skills in warfare. Do not try to survive a wild boar attack at home: Howard was ridiculously lucky, and had help from another world.
> 
> The movie "Babe" came out in 1995, so I presume that those would be the only toy pigs Bryan would have been able to find. He would have bought it in advance, ready to give to Vince. 
> 
> Howard says his grandfather worked his way up to editor of the local paper. This may be the "Yorkshire Evening Post", founded in 1890, and then based in Leeds. Unlike Leeds-based "The Yorkshire Post", which covers national and international issues, the "Evening Post" has a more regional bias, concentrating on events around Leeds and West Yorkshire. It's a generally liberal/left-wing paper, a possible hint as to the political leanings of Howard's family. In the show, Howard indicated he was a liberal, and said nothing to imply that his parents had different political views to his.


	25. Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Howard and Vince, apart from each other. The law catches up with Howard. Vince has to make it on his own. And Howard finds out about the ins and outs of coming out. Warning: this bit is really silly, and not meant to be like a real coming out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I step off the train, I'm walkin' down your street again  
> And past your door but you don't live there anymore ...  
> You're long gone but I can't move on  
> And I miss you  
> Like the deserts miss the rain
> 
> Missing – Everything But the Girl
> 
> "[Losing Julian] is like missing a limb or an organ. ~ Noel Fielding
> 
> I probably see Noel more than anyone. He even creeps into my dreams; his pointy little face haunts me in my sleep. ~ Julian Barratt

Howard pulled into the driveway of his parents' house in Leeds, feeling sick and exhausted. He'd driven almost ceaselessly, although he'd stopped in a small town near the forest to throw his mobile phone into a waste bin, carefully wrapped up in a plastic bag filled with rubbish. Bryan Ferry had given him food and drink for the journey, so he'd had plenty of hummus sandwiches and a bottle of celery juice, as well as one of spring water.

Bryan had added a few leftover mince pies, Christmas biscuits and sweets, which made Howard cry, thinking of how he and Vince had spent the whole day cooking together, and all the funny little accidents there'd been, and how cute Vince had looked with a smear of biscuit mix on one cheekbone, his face flushed pink from the warmth of the oven.

Howard had done a lot of crying on the drive north. He already missed Vince so much that he didn't see how he'd ever get through the next five months – if Vince wasn't so hurt and angry with him that it was all over by now.

Mr and Mrs Moon came running out of the house.

"Howard, we didn't think you'd be here until after the New Year!", said his mother, her face at the driver's window. "We thought you were staying with friends".

"No, er, I had to leave early, Mum", said Howard. "And I couldn't call you because I lost my phone".

"You lost your _phone_?", his mother said in shock. "But you never lose things, and a phone is an expensive thing to lose".

"Don't go on at the lad, Mary", said Howard's father. "Can't you see he's tired to death? His eyes are so red I'm surprised he can even see out of them".

"Sorry, Howard", said Mary. "Of course we're very happy to see you at any time. Come in and get warm. Bill, help Howard with his luggage".

"I suppose the traffic was awful, driving on New Year's Eve", said Bill, as he lifted Howard's one small bag out of the van.

"Yeah, pretty bad", said Howard. "I drove the longer way round to try and avoid the worst of it".

"I can't believe how busy everything is now", Bill said as they went through the front door. "I mean, it was so peaceful when we first moved here, almost like a country village. But now ... well". He made an expansive gesture at how progress had encroached on them, although their suburb was still quiet and pleasant, with tree-lined streets, and a park across the road from their house.

Mary was bustling in the kitchen to make a pot of tea, and soon came out with a tray of mugs and a plate of oat biscuits.

"Well, it's lovely you coming early, Howard", said Mary, handing him a mug of tea. "Now you can come to the New Year's Eve party with us. Don't worry, there'll be plenty of young people there for you".

"How young?", said Howard in alarm.

"Under forty", said Mary. "What, did you think I was going to make you play with the children?".

She laughed, but Howard didn't join in.

****************************************************************

A few days later, Howard was sitting with his parents in the living room. Mary had made parkin for tea, and was industriously knitting Howard a warm brown jumper. Bill was idly flicking through old copies of _National Geographic_ , a magazine Howard had grown up reading, while dreaming of faraway places.

Howard shifted in his seat, and coughed.

"Mum, Dad ... there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about". His parents both looked up expectantly. "Er ... there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just come out of with it. I'm gay".

"Yes, we know", said Mary, clicking away busily. "At least, we assumed".

"Known for years", said Bill, going back to his magazine. He'd thought Howard was going to ask for money, but he was only gay. That probably didn't cost anything.

"How long have you known?", asked Howard in surprise.

"Oh, probably since you were about fourteen", said Mary.

" _I_ didn't even know when I was fourteen!", protested Howard. "How did you know?".

"Well ... being in the Boy Scouts seemed like a clue", said Mary consideringly. "And you never had any girlfriends. Not even friends who were girls".

"What, so just because I was in the Boy Scouts", began Howard indignantly. "Loads of boys do scouting. They're not all gay!".

"It's normal for little boys to want to be a Scout", said Mary. "But you were still going when you were sixteen, off into the woods to sleep with other boys. It just struck me as rather gay".

"I thought that interest in ancient Greece was the big giveaway", Bill said. "You collected an entire magazine series, mostly pictures of half-naked men. You cut a lot of the pictures out to keep".

"I was doing a project on it for school!", said Howard hotly.

"That's as it may be", said Bill. "But I did take it as a sign, and I wasn't wrong, was I?".

Howard fumed. His parents had come to the right conclusion, but via completely wrong reasoning. At least, it _seemed_ wrong ... but he had to stop arguing with them. It was pointless when they were essentially correct, and didn't seem that bothered.

"So, er, do you have any questions you want to ask me?", Howard said.

"Any health issues we should know about?", asked Mary, determinedly looking at her knitting.

"No! And I can't believe that's the first thing you'd ask. Why would you even ask that?".

"It's a valid concern. We'd want you to get the best possible treatment if you were ill", said Mary. "There's new information coming in all the time, and if you weren't well, we'd need to take you to the most experienced doctors. We'd go anywhere to make you better – America, Switzerland. We'd sell the house if we had to".

"Well, I'm not ill", said Howard grumpily. "What made you think I might be?".

"You've lost weight, and you're very pale", Mary replied, looking him over. "And you're right off your food, and you seem tired all the time".

"Just remember to practice safe sex", said Bill. "Tell him if it's not on, it's not on. No glove, no love".

"Is there anything _else_ you'd like to ask me?", said Howard through gritted teeth.

"Do you have a boyfriend?", asked Mary eagerly.

"No ... that is, yes, sort of. It's a bit complicated", said Howard. "I can't see him at the moment, we can't be together just yet".

"Please tell me he's not married", said Mary earnestly. "Because if you're waiting for him to divorce his wife, he's never going to do it, Howard. Men lie like that, they say they'll leave their wife for you, but it's just to keep you hanging about. And think of his children's' lives, losing their father. And what would they call you? Would you be their daddy too?".

"What ... ? No, he's not married", said Howard, barely able to follow this contradictory train of thought. "He's never been married, and he doesn't have any kids".

"Well, that's a relief", said Mary, going back to her knitting. "I always hoped you'd get with that nice friend of yours. Simon".

"Simon McFarnaby?", said Howard in disbelief. "I don't even know if he's gay".

"Howard, he works in theatre", said Mary. "I may not be an expert on gayness, but I know that means he's gay".

"No, it doesn't", said Howard. "And we were only friends, and we don't see each other any more. Actually, we didn't part on very good terms".

"Probably just a tiff", said Mary briskly. "It's normal to have arguments now and again, Howard. You don't give up because of one little disagreement. You need to work at relationships".

"Ugh, this is why I never told you I was gay", said Howard in disgust. "The minute you tell anyone you're gay, the first thing they want to do is match you up with someone else gay they know. Well, normal people do. For you, it's the second thing, after wanting to take me to Switzerland to cure me of AIDS".

"That reminds me. Mrs Jeffries has a gay nephew living in Swiss Cottage you might be interested in, Howard", said Mary. "He's a few years older than you, and he works for the railways".

"Oh well, that sounds like a match made in heaven", said Howard sarcastically. "A thirty year old train driver. We'll have tons in common".

"He doesn't drive trains, he's something very high up in the administration side. A very good job", said Mary. Aware that she might have sounded snobbish, she added, "Not that there would be anything wrong with you going out with a train driver, of course. As long as you were happy, Howard".

"I mean, I don't go about saying, _Hey, you two are both skinny with brown hair. You should get married_ ", said Howard pettishly.

"When we met, your father and I w _ere_ both skinny with brown hair, and we _did_ get married", said Mary. "Mind you, I'm not quite so thin now ....".

"And my hair isn't brown any more", piped up Bill. "Went grey years ago".

"Both you and Howard need a haircut", Mary said. "You'll have to at least go for a trim before school starts, Bill. Honestly, it looks as if the council takes care of it".

"At least I've still got hair", said Bill complacently, running his fingers through his long silver mane. "That should be a comfort to you, Howard – the men in our family don't go bald".

"The thing is, Mum and Dad, I'm in a bit of trouble", said Howard.

"Money trouble?", said Bill keenly.

"Well, sort of. Yes", said Howard. "I need to get out of London".

Mary and Bill both looked very worried.

"You see, I'm writing a book, and I need to get away and work on it properly", continued Howard.

"A book? What kind of book?", asked Mary.

"Is it on jazz?", asked Bill hopefully.

"It's a novel", said Howard. "It's about ... oh, it's hard to explain".

"Shouldn't you get an agent?", asked Mary. "You know, so they can shop it around to publishers?".

"I've already got a publisher", said Howard. "I just need to write the actual book".

"They accepted it before you'd written it?", said Mary in surprise. "Isn't that unusual?".

"Probably. I don't really know that much about publishing", said Howard. "I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while, just until I get myself sorted. I mean, once I find a job I can get a flat and move out".

"But didn't you say you had money troubles?", said Mary.

"Well, I need to save some money, yeah", agreed Howard.

"Then doesn't it make more sense to live with us for a while?", Mary said. "I mean, if you get a job and then a flat, you'll lose a lot of your income on rent. If you stay with us, you can save more money".

"Well, that would be incredibly kind of you", said Howard. "Are you sure you don't mind? You have to let me give you some money towards food and bills though".

"Only when you've got a job", said Bill, patting Howard on the shoulder. "We're glad to help, son".

"Thanks so much", said Howard. "Is it okay if I use the phone? I have to go tell the guys from the jazz band that I'm leaving, and sort out something with my flat".

******************************************************************

At first Vince had been determined to do poorly at school, hopeful that if his results were too bad, he'd either get thrown out of school, or Bryan would realise he needed Howard in order to do well academically. He turned in homework late and incomplete, although he could never quite bring himself to refuse to do it altogether.

He had a new Maths teacher that term, and one day Mr Reddy asked him to stay after class.

"What is this you've handed in, Vince?", he said, putting the homework down on the desk between them, scrawled over in scarlet ink. "It's just nonsense. I've seen your results from last term, and they weren't too bad. What's happened since Christmas?".

Vince had been going to give him the usual litany of excuses. The term had only just started, he was still settling in, he had a job on the weekends, he'd never been that good at Maths. He even wondered if he could cry, and say his boyfriend had gone to Leeds, and he didn't know if he'd ever see him again. But when he looked into Mr Reddy's sensible brown eyes, he somehow knew that he wasn't the type to put up with tears and excuses.

"I'm sorry", Vince mumbled. "I don't really understand the work very well. I used to have someone who helped me with my homework and explained it to me, but they're gone now".

"Vince, I'm here to explain things to you", said Mr Reddy. "Would you like to join my tutoring class, if you need extra help?".

Vince almost refused, but then he thought of how disappointed Howard would be in him, and how Howard would blame himself if Vince failed any classes. Howard would want him to do well.

"Thanks, Mr Reddy", said Vince. "I would like extra tutoring, if that's okay".

Mr Reddy smiled, and said they could always use one more student, and that the extra classes were Tuesday and Thursday after school. Vince wrote down the time and place carefully, and said he'd see Mr Reddy tomorrow.

After that, Vince took the initiative and went to see his English teacher, Ms Kittson. She told him that his work was at a reasonable standard, if he could only remember to hand his homework in on time, but Vince said he was worried about his spelling.

Ms Kittson didn't offer extra classes, but she said many of the older college students did tutoring as a part-time job, if he was willing to pay them. She gave him a list of names, and highly recommended a girl named Lucy Schwartz, joking that they already had one thing in common. Vince didn't get it, but took Lucy's phone number.

***************************************************************

By the end of January, Howard had found a job as sales assistant at a second hand record store called Ray's Retro Records. Ray was an aging rocker with a grey quiff, a pot belly, and a noisy motorcycle who collected Frank Zappa and Captain Beefheart records. He had a temper, but Howard got on with him almost immediately.

The pay wasn't brilliant, but it was a steady income – something Howard hadn't had for years. It was quiet in the shop most of the time, leaving him in peace to sketch out new ideas for his novel, and he'd got to meet people who shared his interests in jazz and vinyl records. He hadn't exactly made friends, but there were regular customers he looked forward to seeing.

He worked at the shop during the day, and wrote his novel at nights and on weekends. He'd made a number of false starts, but once he found a particular image that took his fancy, he discovered that it worked as a hook on which to hang the entire plot. He went to the library for research, and after some hesitation, wrote to someone he knew who he thought might be able to help him. They turned out to be an invaluable resource.

He gave his parents twenty-five euros a week to help pay for bills, and did his fair share of the shopping, cooking, laundry, and housework. Sometimes he asked his mum and dad if he was in their way, but Mary always said he was no trouble at all, and Bill said they'd miss him when he eventually went back to London, the house would feel that empty.

Howard wasn't happy, but he wasn't unhappy either. At least, not all the time. He had hope, and that is both a great comfort and a great motivator.

The only thing he couldn't stand about working at Ray's was when teenagers came in to browse, and occasionally to buy. He tended to be surly with them, especially the boys. When one day a slim blond boy came in who looked just a tiny bit like Vince, Howard asked Ray to serve this customer, pretending that he urgently needed the toilet. He sat in the bogs, sobbing his heart out, and feeling the little bit of hope he had carefully amassed seep away.

***************************************************************

On Valentine's Day, Vince took the train to visit Naboo and Bollo after school. If he couldn't be with Howard, he at least wanted to be around people who knew him. Deep down, he hoped that they might tell him that they'd heard from Howard.

Bollo was thrilled to see him, and hugged him tight. Naboo never seemed that excited about anything, but didn't seem to mind having Vince around.

"So what's happening with Howard's flat?", Vince asked Naboo, as a way of bringing Howard's name into the conversation.

"My mate Pete's living there, yeah?", said Naboo. "I had a lot of Howard's stuff boxed up and sent to Leeds, and then Pete moved in to take care of the flat".

Vince felt a sick jolt in his stomach at the thought that someone else was sleeping in the bed he had shared with Howard, sitting on the sofa where he and Howard had talked, and kissed, and cuddled.

"Don't worry, Pete'll take good care of it", said Naboo, as if knowing what Vince was thinking. "It's just until Howard gets back, yeah?".

"And the jazz band? How are they doing without Howard?", Vince asked.

"Howard got me to break the news to Horace", said Naboo. "He was worried Horace might have a breakdown, but I had a bit of a chat with him, and he's doing alright. They found another trumpet player by advertising in _Jazz Weekly_ , and they're still going".

"Naboo, Howard told me you saved his life – not just by ringing the RSPCA to stop the fight with the kangaroo, but another time. What happened?", Vince wondered.

"Oh, well ... I didn't exactly save Howard's life, more brought him back from the dead", said Naboo.

"Howard _died_?", Vince asked in shock.

"Yeah. You see, there was a bit of a mix up, kind of a funny story really. Bollo was meant to die, but Howard was wearing a gorilla suit at the time, so the Grim Reaper took Howard to Monkey Heaven instead", Naboo explained.

"What ... what happened to him in Monkey Heaven?".

"Well, he says they play The Pixies a lot up there, which got on his wick after a while. But you know, I did my shaman stuff, and moved time and space and heaven and earth and everything ... and he came back about a week later".

Seeing how perturbed Vince looked, Naboo added, "You know, all shamans must move between the worlds. Those people who travel to another plane of existence, like Howard, return with a wealth of mystical knowledge".

"Like what?", Vince asked.

"Well ... he only went to Monkey Heaven, so he didn't get that many juicy insights into the nature of reality", Naboo admitted. "Ever since though, he's been a stickler for eating fruit every day, I'll tell you that much".

"And if Bollo was meant to die, why didn't he?", Vince asked.

"I did die", Bollo said. "Grim Reaper take me to Monkey Heaven, but Naboo bring me back to be his familiar".

"And what did you learn about the afterlife?", asked Vince.

"Oh, it's great. All the bananas you can eat, and they play The Pixies non-stop. It's a paradise", said Bollo. "But my spiritual task is now to help Naboo on earth".

"Yeah, and a fat lot of use you are", muttered Naboo.

"So ... have either of you heard from Howard lately?", asked Vince desperately.

"Yeah, we saw him only last week", said Naboo. "You know, he came down for his court case because he punched that big fuckwit at the roller disco".

"Is Howard alright?", asked Vince frantically.

"He's fine. Howard turned up with a fancy pants lawyer and this guy in a tuxedo who looked like Terry Wogan", said Naboo.

"What ... what happened?", asked Vince.

"Oh, the lawyer said Howard was a Good Samaritan and it was his first offence, and the tuxedo guy said Howard was a young man of good character who had done invaluable work for The Country Alliance. And Howard sucked up the magistrate's arse like his shit tasted of chocolate".

"So did Howard get into trouble?".

"Nah. He had to pay a two thousand euro fine, and write a letter of apology to the fuckwit and the roller disco. He won't even have a criminal record, the jammy git".

****************************************************************

Bryan Ferry still rang Vince every Saturday morning. The first time, Vince had snarled at him before hanging up. The next two times, he only hung up. Since then, he would say hello and goodbye to Bryan but nothing else, so Bryan felt they were making progress.

This time when Vince's phone went off, he was glad to hear Bryan's voice.

"Hello, my dear child", began Bryan.

"Bryan, you've seen Howard", said Vince without preamble. "How is he?".

"Howard is doing very well, my child", said Bryan. "He is a clever, ambitious man, and has found employment".

"You went with him to court, didn't you?", said Vince.

"Yes, my child. I paid Howard's legal costs, as he put himself at significant personal risk to save you", said Bryan. "I felt somewhat responsible".

"Thanks for helping him", mumbled Vince.

"It was of little trouble to me", said Bryan, "and a great pleasure to meet with Howard again".

"Where is he?", asked Vince, resentful that Howard seemed to have seen everyone while in London but him.

"He is staying with family", said Bryan. "He is perfectly safe, and with people who care for him. Try not to worry about him too much, my dear child".

"Does he miss me?", asked Vince in a low voice.

"Of course he does, dear child", said Bryan. "He misses you an enormous amount. But he is working towards your future together, so that he will have something to show for the time you have spent apart".

Vince couldn't help but understand the intended moral, and was silent for a while.

"Bryan, would you like to see Gary Numan with me next month?", he said at last.

"Of course, my child. I always intended to accompany you to the concert", said Bryan. "And you can meet Gary Numan backstage after the show. Would you like that?".

"Yeah, genius", said Vince, without enthusiasm. "But Bryan ... it's so hard not having Howard here. I never felt lonely before in my life, but I'm lonely now. And I ache all over, all the time. And when I wake up in the morning, it hits me all over again, just as hard as it did the first morning".

"My poor sweet child", said Bryan softly. "Be brave a while longer. It is only a little more than three months to wait now".

************************************************************

The nights were the worst, Howard thought. He could keep himself busy during the day with work, writing, domestic tasks, and spending time with his parents, but eventually he had to go to bed, and then he would lie awake, longing for Vince. All his memories of Vince haunted him, he felt empty inside, and his chest hurt as if there was a Vince-shaped hole in his heart.

When he finally fell asleep, he would dream of Vince, and these dreams had a depressing sameness to them. In one, he was lost on the moors in a thick fog, searching for Vince. He called Vince's name again and again in a rising panic, but there was never any answer. Another common dream was that he and Vince were on a high bridge together, Howard holding Vince close to keep him safe. A menacing yet unseen figure tore Vince from Howard's arms, and in the ensuing struggle, Howard lost his footing and fell from the bridge, his eyes wide in terror, his arms still outstretched for Vince.

He always woke up in his bed with a start after that one, his heart pounding too hard for him to go back to sleep.

****************************************************************

One night Howard dreamed that he and Vince met in a moonlit garden filled with white roses and lilies, the air heavily scented with jasmine and honeysuckle. Through the garden ran a narrow stream filled with lotus flowers, and although Howard and Vince were on opposite sides, they held hands over it. Vince's fingers curled around Howard's, and he gave him a little smile as if they were sharing a wonderful secret together.

"Kiss me", Vince said softly, and then Howard took a step across the stream towards him, encircling Vince with his arms, and tenderly brushing his hair away from his upturned face face. Their lips met, and the sweetness of the kiss became wilder and more passionate, its power radiating from the base of Howard's spine to the very top of his head.

The ragged pain in Howard's heart seemed to heal during the kiss, and he rolled over in bed with a smile on his face, able to fall into a deep and natural sleep for the first time in many weeks.

***************************************************************

At the same time, Vince suddenly awoke, his room flooded with the light of the full moon. He stretched in pleasure, his dream already slipping away from him. He'd been kissing Howard in a place with a lot of flowers .... well, he couldn't really remember, but he knew it was a good dream.

He grinned to himself at the memory, but almost at once he sighed, knowing that it had only been a dream, and he wouldn't see Howard again for months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howard's mum, Mary Moon, is named after the character in the 1990s hit "New Age Girl" by Deadeye Dick. And someone named Mary can only ever be married to someone named William, right? But also, Bill Moon is very much like Billy Moon, Christopher Robin's pet name.
> 
> In my mind, I know exactly where Howard's parents live (I even know the address): I can't tell you where, but it's a very nice suburb that had a housing boom in the 1960s when the Moons would have moved there, and lots of good schools for them to teach at. It's surrounded by woods, wildlife reserves, and green spaces which the young Howard would have enjoyed exploring. Howard always struck me as having had a very comfortable upbringing – unlike Vince, who seemed more as if he'd been dragged up by the scruff of his neck. 
> 
> Ray is named in honour of Noel's dad. He's a Tommy Nooka-like character, showing that Howard really does get along very well with older men of this type. If Howard hadn't met and fallen in love with Vince, I imagine he would have wound up with someone rather like Ray. Vince would have had relationships with both men and women, including Delia, and one night he and Leroy would have got very drunk and got off with each other – but the next morning they would have agreed they were better suited as friends. I'm not sure when Vince would have settled down without Howard.
> 
> The surname Reddy is most common amongst people from India, although it's a British name too. In my mind, Mr Reddy is of Indian heritage, but you can picture him as white or black if you want. 
> 
> Vince's tutor is named after "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds". Her surname is just to have the same meaning as Vince's, but there are such things as black diamonds. They are the toughest of all diamonds, as a hint as to what to kind of tutor she'll be. They are also luminescent, suitable for someone named Lucy. I feel that Lucy's surname is statistically most likely Jewish in origin, although that's not the only possibility.
> 
> Is there anyone who doesn't know why they play The Pixies in Monkey Heaven? It's because of this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mK3iSglbZUM
> 
> The law makes rare provision for not recording a criminal conviction, even if the person pleads guilty. In Howard's case, it was his first offence and he only attacked the man at the roller disco to save somebody else; the victim didn't press charges, and can't have been too badly injured by Howard, who was, after all, on roller skates. Although the story suggests that The Country Alliance is a shadowy and powerful organisation that can go a long way to helping you in a legal case, much the way we think of Masons in our universe.
> 
> Gary Numan played the London Astoria on Sunday, the 24th of March 1996. The set list included both "Cars" and "Are Friends Electric?", which featured in "The Mighty Boosh" TV show. Bryan arranges for Vince to meet Gary Numan to cheer him up, as Howard did on the show; it doesn't have much impact this time either. 
> 
> In real life, Julian is very interested in dream states, and took part in a lucid dreaming group exercise; it's possible to see the kiss in the garden as a shared lucid dream. You can have fun interpreting Howard's dreams, but although they are overtly about losing and wanting Vince, I believe they also have a lot to say about his feelings in regard to his writing career. The flowers in the dream are symbolic of both heavenly and earthly love, and sacred to the moon, or to moon goddesses. They all come into bloom in late spring and summer, which is when Vince and Howard can be together again. The night of the full moon would have been Tuesday the 5th of March, if you are trying to work out the chronology of the story.


	26. So Many Things to Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The proverbial is about to hit the fan, Chez Moon. As the title suggests, there's a lot of communication in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got so many things to say  
> I had to write 'em down  
> I was feeling alone  
> So I'm on the phone to you ...  
> You can talk to me  
> Anytime that you feel the pain 
> 
> You Can Talk to Me – The Seahorses 
> 
> And we just had a break, but then it was difficult to find a way back, because we’d been so tight that we were very much in love. ~ Noel Fielding

Mary Moon got in from work, thinking of all she had to do. Take the lamb chops out to defrost for dinner, complete her speech for the teacher's meeting the following evening, write up her weekly report to be submitted on Friday, begin her lesson plans for the next month, arrange a card and flowers to be sent to a colleague who was ill. She reminded herself that Bill's parents were coming to lunch that weekend, and made a note to buy extra food when she next went shopping. You always think things will calm down after Easter, but in fact it just gets busier and busier.

She'd only just taken out the chops when the phone rang. Mary and Bill were the type of teachers who didn't keep their phone number private, in case students from the boy's school where they taught needed to call them at home. Usually it was for help with homework or tutoring, but Mary was the deputy head in charge of pastoral care, and sometimes it was a boy too shy or scared to come into her office at school.

Mary was used to calls from unhappy boys, lonely boys, hurt boys. Sometimes boys at the end of their rope, occasionally a boy in serious trouble with nowhere else to turn.

"Hello, Mrs Moon speaking".

"Oh, Mrs Moon ...".

Yes, it was a boy's voice, which trailed off.

"Do you need help with Maths? If it's Geography, you want Mr Moon".

"No, I don't need help with Maths. I mean, I do need help, my Maths is shocking, but I'm already in a tutoring class for it".

"Then is there something else I can help with?".

"I ... could I speak to Howard, please?".

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to speak to my son, not without knowing who you are and what this is about". Mary sounded firm, but not unkind.

"Oh, please", the boy said, sounding as if he might cry.

"Are you in some sort of trouble, dear? Please, just talk to me the same way you would to your mother".

"Don't have a mother", said the boy. "Or a father. Only a foster-father".

"Oh _dear_. I think you'd better tell me all about it. I find that if we share our problems with someone, they often don't seem quite as bad afterwards. Do you think you could tell me your name?".

"My name's Vince. Vince Noir".

******************************************************************

Howard got in from work about an hour or so later than his mother. It was his turn to cook dinner, and he had an idea he might do a spicy apricot sauce for the lamb chops, and a yoghurt dressing for the salad. He went into his room, took off his jacket, and started making some notes towards the next chapter of his novel.

His mother burst into his room without knocking, an unheard of thing for her to do, and although Mary had never smacked Howard in her life (she had strong views on that), she looked very much as if she'd like to start now.

"How could you, how _could_ you?", she said, her hands shaking with passion. "You told us you were gay, not ... not _abnormal_!".

Howard looked up, startled.

"Mum? What's this ...?"

"What were you thinking? Seducing a young boy! Doing God knows what harm to him, and then sneaking off here ... To think we brought you into our home, gave you sanctuary ... If only we'd known the truth!".

Bill quietly stepped into the room behind her, and gently touched her elbow.

"Calm down, Mary. Whatever's happened, we agreed we needed to discuss this with Howard in a rational manner".

"Do you know what damage you could have done to our careers if this had ever got out, Howard? Having a son who preys on schoolboys?". Mary had only calmed down very slightly.

"You know what would be great for all our careers? Having you keep screaming about preying on schoolboys", said Howard sarcastically.

"How dare you joke about this?", cried Mary.

"Look, I don't know how you even found out, but I didn't seduce a young boy", Howard said. "Vince is almost eighteen".

"Almost! In other words, he's still a child in the eyes of the law", said Mary.

"Howard, I really think you should stop seeing this boy immediately", said Bill. "You could get yourself into serious trouble, and imagine how his foster-father would feel if he knew".

"I'm _not_ seeing him", said Howard. "I'm here, he's in London. And his foster-father already knows – he told me not to contact Vince until he turned eighteen. I'm doing what he asked of me".

"Why didn't you tell us the real reason you'd come back to Leeds?", asked Mary, sounding more upset than angry now.

"I didn't know you'd take it so well", replied Howard with a grimace. "And I told you that I had a boyfriend, but that we couldn't be together yet".

"Who is this boy, Howard?", Bill asked.

"His name's Vince", Howard said. "He's at art college"".

Howard looked through his wallet, extracting a photo of he and Vince together, and passing it over to Bill and Mary to examine. He chose the one where they weren't kissing or pulling faces.

"Nice looking lad", said Bill meaningfully.

Howard flushed.

"I'm not only attracted to Vince because of his looks, if that's what you're getting at", he said.

"So what else, then?", asked Bill.

"You'd understand at once if you met him. Vince is an exceptional person – he's bright, talented, extremely funny and charming".

"What could you even talk about together?", asked Mary.

"Everything. All the usual things you talk about with a boyfriend or girlfriend", said Howard. "Music, films, travel, shared interests, mutual friends. Our pasts, our dreams for the future".

"I can see you care for Vince", said Bill, "but Howard, you must have known you were doing the wrong thing getting involved with him. He's only a boy, still at school".

"I know I did the wrong thing", Howard said. "We started out just being friends, and then ... well, we developed feelings for each other. By the time I realised how I felt, it was too late to just back away from him as if nothing had happened".

"Howard, I'm going to have you ask you not to have any contact with Vince while you're under our roof", said Bill seriously.

"I don't have any contact with him, I already explained all that", said Howard wearily. "I haven't seen him since last year, and I promise I haven't phoned him, or emailed him, or even sent him a postcard since I've been in Leeds".

"Yes, and you've absolutely broken that boy's heart", said Mary indignantly. "He rang here, completely distraught at being abandoned. He's doing A Levels, you know!".

"Is he?", said Howard eagerly. "Oh, that's excellent. I wanted him to do A Levels, but he always said he wasn't good enough. He lacks a bit of confidence, you see".

"Well, how he is meant to pass his exams with all this emotional turmoil?", Mary demanded. "First you love him, and now you're pushing him away. No wonder the poor boy is confused. Young people need consistency".

"Mum, I'm confused too", said Howard. "I'm trying to do the right thing by keeping away from Vince, but now that's wrong as well".

"Leaving him with only a letter", went on Mary. "He never even got to say goodbye, Howard. He didn't get any closure".

"Vince is a vulnerable young boy with no family", said Bill. "You took advantage of him, and you're messing him around now".

"I don't know what you want me to do at this point", said Howard helplessly. "And Vince's foster-father adores him, and he's a multimillionaire with a great deal of power and influence. I don't think Vince is quite as alone and vulnerable as you think".

"Now, then. Let's start with some facts", said Bill. "When does Vince turn eighteen?".

"Next month", said Howard. "His birthday is a couple of weeks after mine".

Both Bill and Mary looked relieved at this news.

"Well, that's hardly any time to wait", said Bill. "What made him suddenly ring Howard at this point?".

"I think for an adult, it would become easier and easier to wait as the day got closer", said Mary thoughtfully. "But Vince is still very young, and every day it got harder and harder for him. When he rang here, he sounded as he'd had about as much as he could take, and he had no way of knowing if Howard still felt the same way about him".

"It's been hard on me too", broke in Howard. "I don't think I've slept properly even one night since we've been apart, and one day at work I had to go into the toilets just to cry".

He thought his parents failed to look truly sympathetic.

"You can't send word to Vince to give him some sort of reassurance?", asked Bill.

Howard shook his head.

"Not without disobeying his foster-father – and he's made it clear my life won't be worth living if I make any attempt to contact Vince".

"There's clearly a lot we don't understand yet", said Bill. "Let's go into the sitting room. I'll make a pot of tea, and we'll have a proper talk about this. Forget about cooking dinner. I'll grab us some Chinese when we get hungry".

When they were all seated with the obligatory mugs of tea, without which no Moon tackled any task, great or small, Howard looked at his father and mother.

"I don't really know where to start", he said hesitantly.

"Begin at the beginning, and go on to the end, then stop", said Mary with a wry smile, remembering how this line had always made Howard laugh when they read _Alice_ together.

Howard took a deep breath.

"Last September I had a gig at a jazz club", he began. "After the gig, the club owner came into the dressing room and said there was a boy to see me. He said it was a fan who wanted my autograph ...".

*****************************************************************

"So when exactly were you planning to tell us all this?", asked Mary, holding a paper napkin under her spring roll to catch the crumbs.

"As soon as Vince finished school", said Howard, biting into his vegetable pancake. "I was going to bring him here so you could meet him".

"You're still going to do that, aren't you?", said Mary anxiously.

"Of course", said Howard. "You'll both love Vince".

"He does seem a rather taking boy", said Mary. "He has a sweet way about him, and is very polite".

"And how do you see your future with Vince?", asked Bill, carefully taking the lid off the fried rice. "I mean, how are things going to be after he leaves school?".

"We're going to Europe together for Vince's gap year, then he's got college or uni, I hope", said Howard. "But basically I want to spend the rest of my life with him".

"Vince is far too young to commit to something like that", said Mary, passing her plate for fried rice.

"I know", said Howard. "I'm not asking him for any commitment, it's me who's committing to him. But his foster-father seems to think that ... well, that Vince is very attached to me". He blushed.

"It sounds as if Vince is going to be a part of our family, then", said Bill thoughtfully.

"He certainly will be", said Mary. "And it's up to us to help him feel welcome. He doesn't have any parents, and the poor boy needs _some_ sort of stability in his life. Do you know his family abandoned him in a forest, Bill?".

Bill shook his head in disbelief.

"The poor kid", he said. "The thing is Mary, if Vince is going to be ... well, our son-in-law, I suppose ... and Howard isn't allowed to contact him when he's going through a rough patch, don't you think it's our job to reach out to him?".

"Do you think his foster-father would mind if we wrote to Vince?", Mary asked Howard. "Or could we phone the foster-father first? What's his name, anyway? I feel daft calling him 'the foster-father' all the time".

"His name's Bryan, and he doesn't have phone or email", said Howard. "He lives in quite a remote area. But I don't think he'd mind – it's only me that he said couldn't contact Vince".

"I think we'd better write to both Vince and this Bryan chap", said Bill. "Let Bryan know that we're aware of the situation, and we only want what's best for Vince".

"Hey, what about what's best for me?", protested Howard.

His parents glared at him.

"You've caused quite enough trouble", Mary retorted. "You've put us in a very embarrassing situation – goodness knows what kind of upbringing Bryan is going to think we gave you, that you asked his teenage foster-son out!".

"I knew it, you're both completely on Vince's side already", complained Howard as he moodily ate prawn crackers.

"Well, _someone_ has to stand up for him and do the right thing", said Mary.

"You've caused a fine mess, Howard, and you're lucky that we're willing to help you clean it up", said Bill. "Most parents would have thrown you out on your ear".

"The only reason we're doing this is because of Vince", said Mary. "Whatever's happened, he doesn't deserve to feel ashamed or unwanted. He's entirely innocent in this matter, and I won't have him made a scapegoat for your wrongdoings, Howard".

Howard got stuck into his sweet and sour chicken, wondering if he would have been better off in prison. He probably would have only got six months (he thought optimistically), and could have worked on his novel while he was in there. It couldn't be worse than this, surely?

"Howard, what sort of food does Vince like? I want him to have all his favourite meals while he's here", said Mary. "And Bill, we should clear out the spare room and have it done up for him. It's a great excuse to repaint, and get new curtains and so on".

"You and Vince should come for the whole summer", Bill said. "That way we can really get to know him, and show him around Yorkshire. I must say, we're looking forward to having someone young in the house again".

"What am I, an old man?", muttered Howard.

His parents weren't listening. They were planning the redecoration of the spare room, and writing down lists of activities that they thought Vince might enjoy. Mary said they should really visit the seaside, while Bill was sure that Vince would like to go camping on the moors for a few nights.

*******************************************************************

A few days later, Vince got in from school, and picked up his mail from his pigeon hole in the central hallway. There was a letter with a Leeds postmark, but it wasn't Howard's handwriting on the envelope. He carried it into his room, sat on the bed, and hastily tore it open.

_Dear Vince,_

_We are Howard's parents, Mary and Bill Moon. We're sorry that you couldn't speak to Howard when you phoned here the other day, but it was lovely to hear your voice at last._

_Howard has told us all about you, and about the future you have planned together. He has also said that your foster-father Bryan has, quite rightly, asked Howard not to contact you again until you turn eighteen, but we hope he doesn't mind us writing to you. We are writing to Bryan as well, so that he knows all about it._

_Please don't worry yourself about Howard, as he is perfectly alright. Of course he misses you a great deal, but he is keeping himself occupied and not giving himself time to brood. His feelings for you are quite unchanged, and in fact, have grown stronger. It probably seems very unfair to you right now, but it's not a bad thing for young couples to spend a bit of time apart, so that they can pursue their own goals, and test the depth of their feelings for each other._

_It is only a very short time until your eighteenth birthday, so we hope you will be able to knuckle down to your schoolwork, knowing that you will see Howard again very soon. This is such an important year for your education, and we understand why Bryan has asked you not to see Howard for a little while, so you can concentrate on school._

_Howard has said that he intends to bring you to Leeds when you finish school, so that we can meet you. We're very much looking forward to that, and we'd like it if you could stay for the whole summer, so that we can all get to know each other properly. We know you and Howard are going to Europe for your gap year, but France can get very hot in summer, and it makes more sense for you to stay here until the weather cools down a bit. You will still have plenty of time to travel together._

_If you write back, tell us all your favourite meals, and what you'd like to do in Yorkshire. Do you want to go to the seaside, or would you prefer camping on the moors for a few days? Or both? We expect you and Howard will have lots of things you'll want to do together anyway, and Leeds has plenty of shopping and nightlife for young people._

_Looking forward to the day we can all meet in person._

_Warm regards,_

_Mary and Bill_

_(and please call us by our first names – we're really family now)_

It wasn't long before Mary was opening her own letter, this time with a London postmark.

_Dear Mary and Bill,_

_Thanks so much for your letter, it was really kind of you to write to me. I promise I won't worry any more, and will work hard at school to make Howard proud of me._

_It would be genius to spend the whole summer in Yorkshire, as long as Howard wants to. I love the seaside (I am a good swimmer), and camping would be good too, as I'm used to living outdoors. I don't mind what we do, as long as I'm with Howard. Don't make me anything special to eat, I eat everything. I like Howard's cooking._

_Bryan got your letter, and he is going to write to you as well. I think he would like to meet you before I stay with you. Would you like to come to London for my school leaving ceremony? Bryan can send you tickets._

_I can't wait to meet you either. It's going to be amazing. I would love to be in your family._

_Love,_

_Vince xx_

_PS My English tutor Lucy helped me with this letter. She is very strict and says my spelling is atrocious (I looked that word up in the dictionary by myself, did you know they have books to help with spelling? Genius. Except sometimes the word is hard to find if you don't know how to spell it, and I still read the word wrong sometimes. The letters don't look right)._

****************************************************************

On his twenty-eighth birthday, Howard received a parcel wrapped in shiny silver and blue paper, and when he opened it, it was a purple silk vintage shirt with a swirly pattern on it. There was a card, hand-painted in a cartoonish design, which showed Howard and Vince leaning against a tree, kissing. Instead of fruit or flowers, the tree had little red love-hearts growing on it.

Inside the card, it simply said

NOT LONG TO WAIT NOW!!!!!!!!!

and then a row of crosses, to mean kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In real life, you can't suddenly decide to do A Levels in the final semester of your secondary education, but nothing about Vince's education really made sense in the show either, so I made it ludicrously unrealistic in this story too. All I can suggest is that Vince had always been doing the coursework for A Levels, but didn't have the confidence to sit the exams, which is crazy, but I guess plausible. It is, however, perfectly possible to sit your A Levels at art school, so that part isn't made up.


	27. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince turns 18 at last. It's a big long thick juicy chapter with more than one surprise for the birthday boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All this will fade away  
> So I'm coming home, I'm coming home  
> I'm coming home, but just for a short while 
> 
> Slight Return – The Bluetones
> 
> He'll come back ... he'll come back eventually! ~ Noel Fielding 
> 
> We never really broke up. ~ Julian Barratt

Vince opened his eyes on his eighteenth birthday, secretly hoping to see Howard. He told himself he was being thick. Did he expect Howard to break into the boarding house on the stroke of midnight, just so he could sit by Vince's bed all night, waiting for him to wake up? Nonetheless, he was disappointed that Howard wasn't there.

"Happy birthday, mate", said Leroy, giving him a present and a hug at the same time. "I'm taking you to Camden Palace for your birthday tonight. It's great now you're eighteen too – we'll be able to go to pubs and clubs together all the time once our A Levels are over".

"That sounds genius", said Vince, forcing a smile as he unwrapped the gift.

"It's a Polaroid camera", Leroy said. "Thought it would come in handy for your trip to Europe, in case you can't always get to a photo processing place".

"Thanks, Leroy", said Vince, with a weak but genuine smile. "It's brilliant".

He loaded film into the camera and put one arm around Leroy, squeezing their faces together while he held the camera at arm's length, and clicked. When the picture popped up, Leroy showed him how to give it a little shake, and after a few minutes he could see a close-up of he and Leroy together.

"Mm, my skin looks a bit blotchy in the morning", said Vince critically. "You'll have to take a photo of me in all my outfits when I get dressed so I can see what I really look like, like in that film. I'm going to use this all the time".

Leroy suppressed a groan, fearing he had inadvertently created a monster.

**********************************************************************

At the breakfast table, everyone sang _Happy Birthday_ to Vince, and there was a pile of birthday cards for him next to his plate. There wasn't one from Howard.

At school, people kept coming up to him all morning, with hugs and kisses, cards and gifts. Sally gave him a little jug she had made herself – her best subject was Pottery.

"Thanks, Sal", Vince said, kissing her on the cheek. "This is amazing. My foster-father Bryan used to teach pottery".

"Did he really? Can I meet him?", asked Sally breathlessly.

"Uh yeah, some time", said Vince vaguely.

It was lunch before he had a chance to check his email. He was sure that now he was eighteen and the communication ban had been lifted, Howard would have written to him straight away, but there was nothing in his inbox from Howard. He waited for his phone to ring, but Howard never called either.

"Cheer up", Leroy said to Vince as they walked home together after school. "Howard has to work – he might not have had time to do anything yet. You'll hear from him by the end of the day".

Vince was sure he wouldn't. Howard didn't care about him any more, or maybe he'd even forgotten that today was Vince's birthday. This was the worst birthday Vince could remember.

Except that when Vince walked in through the front door, he had a stack more cards in his pigeon hole that came second post, and at last he saw Howard's handwriting on one of the envelopes. He ripped it open in the hall. The card was large and white, embossed with fancy gold lettering and a big number 18 in one corner. Inside was another poem:

_We thought this day would never arrive_  
_And that apart we could not survive_  
_But months went past_  
_And now at last_  
_The two of us can be together_  
_So I can love you forever and ever_

Vince opened the door to his room, smiling to himself as he read the card again and again. There was a sweet scent on the air, and a sudden impression that his room had turned bright yellow. It turned out to be because most of it _was_ yellow - there were dozens upon dozens of bouquets of mimosa, smelling of spring time, their fluffy flowers glowing in the afternoon sunshine.

On each of the bouquets was a little card, which read:

_Expect the unexpected. And happy birthday, darling. All my love, Howard xxxxxx_

****************************************************************

After his message from Howard, Vince couldn't help expecting to see Howard at every turn. He danced at Camden Palace with Leroy and a group of friends, but kept looking around as if Howard might be going to approach him. He craned his neck hopefully so many times that other people kept coming over and buying him drinks or asking him to dance, thinking he'd been trying to get their attention. By the end of the night, six girls and two blokes had given him their phone number, which Leroy said was just typical.

"Vince doesn't even try, and he's got half the club throwing themselves at him", he said to the group, half proud, half envious.

"Vince Noir, Prince of Camden!", someone laughed, and then they all cheered Vince as if he'd done something extraordinary.

A camera went off in his face, and Vince automatically pulled a pose. Bryan had taught him all about posing for photographs, and giving smoky, smouldering looks into the camera lens (not to mention making sure your hair and clothes look perfect at all times).

Vince had just become part of the Camden cool scene – and it was great, but without Howard being there, a little empty.

***********************************************************************

Howard hadn't been at the nightclub, but Vince still thought he might follow him home from school, or sit at the bus stop near the phone box, or drive down his street, or knock on the door of the boarding house. When Vince took four bunches of lily-of-the-valley to lay on the memorial in Bow Cemetery the day after his birthday, he had such a strong feeling that Howard would have already been there that his disappointment at finding the memorial overgrown with weeds was physically painful. He tidied the memorial savagely, and felt his eyes fill with hot, itchy tears.

Each time Vince got in at the boarding house, he asked if there'd been any messages or phone calls for him, but the answer was always no. Most of the mimosa from Howard was now dotted around the boarding house, making it smell deliciously fresh and clean, and brightening every corner.

By the weekend following his birthday, Vince had given up on seeing Howard. He had to meet Bryan for lunch at the place he always stayed when in London, The Marwood Hotel in Camden Town. In the late 1960s, the Marwood had been hip, if a little scruffy around the edges; now it was just scruffy, albeit with a faded charm, and had even gained a certain amount of morose respectability. As he crossed the road from the train station, Vince looked at its neo-Gothic spires and dull Victorian brick facade with affection, remembering all the times he had stayed there as a child when visiting London.

Bryan was already in the hotel's restaurant, looking through the menu for their vegetarian special of the day. He stood up when he saw Vince, and gave him a careful hug that wouldn't get either of their outfits wrinkled.

"Happy birthday, my dear child", said Bryan. "Welcome to the world of adulthood, with all its joys and pains and inconveniences and fears and duties".

"Yeah cheers, thanks Bryan", said Vince, sitting down, unsure of how to take this statement.

"I saw your photo in _Cheekbone_ ", said Bryan, putting the glossy magazine on the table between them. "It looks as if you enjoyed your birthday celebrations".

"Yeah, it was alright", said Vince without much enthusiasm.

"I always knew you would take your place amongst the Camden elite one day", said Bryan approvingly, "and here you are – photographed by the most exclusive magazine in London on your very first night out in society!".

Vince twiddled with the edge of the white damask tablecloth, and didn't say anything. A waiter drifted over, and Bryan ordered for both of them.

"Your birthday party here tonight starts at eight in the grand ballroom, my child", said Bryan, "but do not worry, I will not be attending".

"I don't mind", protested Vince. "I'd like you to come".

"No, no, you concentrate on having fun with your guests", smiled Bryan. "You do not want your old foster-father bumbling about. But I have spoken to the hotel, and nobody will be allowed in without an invitation".

Bryan and Vince continued chatting through asparagus tart and rhubarb fool, and over coffee Bryan gave Vince his present, which was a gold watch engraved with his name and the date of his birthday. Then Bryan said that he had some important papers for Vince to read carefully and sign, reaching into his briefcase for them.

Vince already received ten euros per week in pocket money, and at first he thought the papers were just continuing this. Then he realised there were extra zeroes on the end.

"You're giving me a thousand euros every week?", he said, dumbfounded.

"Yes, that will be your allowance while you are studying", Bryan confirmed. "But remember Vince, that thousand euros has to pay for everything – your rent, food, clothes, textbooks, and other supplies. You will need to budget, and you will need to learn to save. I can arrange an appointment with a financial advisor, if you would like".

"Next year I won't be studying though", Vince pointed out.

"I know. I thought I would just give you twenty thousand euros towards your gap year travels", Bryan said. "Does that sound fair to you? You will be travelling with Howard, and he has money saved for the trip too".

"I haven't even spoken to Howard since December", said Vince gloomily. "I thought we were going to be together as soon as I turned eighteen, but my birthday was five days ago, and I haven't heard from him yet".

"He didn't contact you for your birthday?", asked Bryan, the corners of his eyes crinkling in concern.

"Yeah, he sent me a card and some flowers", said Vince.

"A very proper, gentlemanly gift", said Bryan approvingly, his face clearing. "Howard has a job and family in Leeds – he probably has loose ends to tie up first. You cannot expect him to drop everything in an instant to be with you. You wanted a relationship with an adult, and must accept that adults have other responsibilities to deal with. I am sure you will see Howard before too long".

Vince looked at the papers in front of him.

"You know Bryan, foster-parents don't usually keep supporting their foster-kid once they turn eighteen", said Vince slowly. "I mean, this is amazingly nice of you, but you don't have to give me anything at all. Your job's done now. I'm grown up".

"Vince my child, did you look carefully at all the papers I gave you?", asked Bryan.

Vince turned over page after page of financial information, until at the end there was something different. He stopped, and looked at Bryan, hardly daring to believe.

"These are adoption papers", he said.

"I could never adopt you before", said Bryan. "The way you came into my life was very unusual, and if I had tried to make it official, people might have interfered. But you are an adult now Vince, and the choice is only ours to make. That is, if you would like it?".

Vince didn't say anything, just kept staring at Bryan.

"I will understand if you do not want to", said Bryan, in his most formal tones. "I know I made a lot of mistakes as a foster-parent, and that I can never fully take the place of your real mother and father".

"If ... if you adopt me, will I be your son?", asked Vince, finding his voice.

"Yes, my child. You will be my son, no longer my foster-son", replied Bryan.

"Do I have to change my name?", Vince asked.

"Not if you do not wish it", said Bryan. "I know your surname is all you have from your past".

"Can I call you Dad?", asked Vince hopefully.

"You can call me Dad or Bryan. Whatever you like", said Bryan.

And then a few seconds later, Vince had his arms around Bryan's neck, saying "Thanks for adopting me, Dad".

"Vince, you are far too old to be sitting on my lap", Bryan reprimanded him. "My shirt is getting quite rumpled, and we are causing a scene in the restaurant. Do you hear me, Vince?".

"Yes, Daddy", said Vince blissfully, tucking his face into Bryan's shoulder, and not moving.

*******************************************************************

By all reasonable standards, Vince's birthday party was going well. Everyone from college had come to it, dressed up and eager to have a good time. The Marwood's grand ballroom had been decorated with so many different colours it looked like a packet of hundreds and thousands had mated with a glitter ball in there. Naboo and Bollo were deejaying, and laying down some banging tunes that had everyone going mental on the dance floor.

Vince was tired of hugging and kissing everyone, saying _Hey, great to see you_ , and _Glad you could make it_. He was tired of everyone saying how amazing he looked, and saying they looked amazing as well. He was tired of dancing, and talking, and smiling, and pretending he was enjoying himself.

He went over to the free cocktail bar, and asked for a drink.

"What would you like?", the bartender asked.

"Anything except a Flirtini", said Vince. "They make me spew".

"Do you like Bailey's?", the bartender enquired, looking Vince up and down.

"Too many memories", said Vince wearily, as if he was about forty.

"Margarita?".

"Nah".

"Hmm, you're a difficult customer", said the bartender thoughtfully. "You're young and strong and beautiful, and you should be having the time of your life, but instead you're moping around the bar by yourself. Who dragged you to this, anyway?".

"It's my party", said Vince.

"And you'll cry if you want to?".

"My boyfriend's in Leeds", said Vince tragically.

"Might be worse", the barman suggested. "Might be Huddersfield".

"No, I mean he's in Leeds and I haven't seen him for months and I miss him", Vince said irritably.

"Tell you what", said the bartender briskly. "I'll mix you a Cosmopolitan. It's basically a Martini so it looks quite sophisticated, but I think you'll go for the sweetness in it".

"Thanks, that sounds nice", said Vince. "Sorry I'm being such a misery".

"Part of my job to cheer you up", said the bartender. "And I bet that boyfriend of yours is going to march in the door, just when you least expect him".

"Fat chance", scoffed Vince, but he enjoyed the drink.

**********************************************************************

Howard walked into the Marwood Hotel, showing his invitation to the man on the door at the ballroom, who gave him a suspicious look. He wasn't like any of the other guests, who were teenage art school students.

"Is your name on the list?", the doorman asked, in a way which suggested he was bloody sure it wasn't.

"Howard Moon", Howard said.

What with the trouble getting a taxi, and the dificulties paying the taxi fare in the manner the driver preferred, and the awkwardness of carrying a present, and now being questioned like this, Howard was feeling stressed. Doormen don't like letting stressed people in. They think it means you're up to something, especially when you've got shifty little eyes and a nervous expression.

The doorman spent about six times longer looking at the list than necessary. Rather than admitting Howard's name was actually on it, he gave Howard a meaningful stare, and asked, "Got any ID, sir?".

Howard dug his driver's licence out of his wallet, and showed it to the man.

"Is that your real date of birth?", the doorman asked. "You look a lot older".

"Yes, it's my real date of birth", said Howard irritably. "Fourth of May, 1968".

"Bit old for this, aren't you?", the doorman said.

"Look, are you going to let me in or not?", snapped Howard.

"Just one moment, sir", the doorman said. He took a phone from the holster on his belt, dialled a single digit, and had a brief conversation with someone that involved nodding at the phone a lot.

"You're free to go in", said the doorman. "Apologies for the delay, but can't be too careful, can I?".

Howard didn't dignify this with a response, but marched into the ballroom. He put his present on a table with hundreds of others, and looked around, feeling lost and bewildered.

"Howard!", a voice shrieked. "Howard, you're here!".

The young man who'd been standing at the bar suddenly ran over to him, and threw himself into Howard's arms.

"Oh Howard, it's like a miracle", babbled Vince. "The bartender said you'd march through the door just when I least expect it, and I have one sip of my drink and turn around, and here you are!".

"Happy birthday", said Howard in a shaky voice, bashfully setting his lips against Vince's jawline.

He couldn't stop staring at Vince. He'd grown an inch since Howard last saw him, and without putting on an ounce of weight, had somehow become broader-shouldered. The Cuban heels he was wearing meant he was only about three inches shorter than Howard. It seemed overly dramatic to say that Howard had left behind a boy and returned to find a man, but that's what had happened.

Howard stared and stared. Vince had had his hair dyed black and straightened, and it made him look older, while his eyes seemed even bigger and impossibly blue in contrast. He was wearing tight black leather jeans, silvery tunic top, grey faux fur waistcoat, and a silver hair band. His make-up had been professionally done, and he looked glamorous and intimidatingly cool. Howard would never have dared approach Vince had he met him at this moment.

"Like what you see?", asked Vince flirtatiously.

"You look ... you look ..."

Please don't say great, thought Vince to himself.

"You look breathtaking. Stunning", said Howard, looking at Vince again and again.

Vince grinned. Howard had found new adjectives. He must have got one of those these-saw-us thingies Lucy was always telling him about.

"You look gorgeous", Vince said admiringly. "You're wearing the shirt and jacket I bought you, and they look even better than I thought they would".

"Oh well, I ...", began Howard, but Vince had taken his hand, and was dragging him over to the bar.

"Hey, guess what? My boyfriend came marching through the door, just like you said", Vince beamed at the bartender.

"Excellent news. Hope you have a very happy reunion", said the bartender, as he began getting Howard a drink (a straight whiskey, he could tell Howard wasn't one for anything fancy – at least, not in his glass).

"Thank you for giving Vince a few words of comfort", said Howard, a bit pompously, because he felt shy.

"All part of my job, that's it", said the bartender with a tight smile, pushing the whiskey glass towards him.

The bartender wasn't pleased with Howard. He'd been planning on plying Vince with drinks all evening and then offering him comfort of a far more practical sort. His line about the missing boyfriend marching through the door never failed to make them break down when the boyfriend didn't arrive; this was the first time the boyfriend had been so inconsiderate as to actually show up.

"How did you get in here?", Vince asked, looking up at Howard from under his eyelashes.

"Oh, I've got an invitation. Bryan sent it to me weeks ago", Howard replied.

"I can't believe it! He didn't say a single word to me", pouted Vince. "I'm sure you've been talking more to Bryan than me these past months".

Howard looked shifty.

Still with drinks in hand, Vince took Howard over to say hello to Naboo and Bollo. Both of them looked quite pleased to see him again, although Naboo just called him a ballbag, and Bollo pretended he still thought his name was Harold. Vince jumped up on stage, grabbing the microphone from Naboo, and addressing the entire room.

"Oi, listen up! I want you all to meet someone. This is my boyfriend Howard, whose been away in Leeds".

He put a hand on Howard's shoulder, and Howard gave an embarrassed, restrained wave to the crowd.

Everyone stared. They hadn't really believed Vince's stories about having a boyfriend nobody knew in Leeds, especially when Leroy and Sally, upon being questioned, looked vague, and said there _was_ someone, but they thought he and Vince were just friends, and they weren't certain what had happened to him. Vince's classmates more or less thought the boyfriend in Leeds was something made up to explain why Vince wouldn't go out with anyone else, a handy excuse. And this bloke didn't look like he was Vince's boyfriend either. He was pretty old, and sort of a mess.

"Anyway, I know he's well fit and everything, but anyone caught trying to get their hands on him will be thrown out of the party. Howard's mine! And girls, don't even bother, because he's massively gay".

Everyone looked at each other, befuddled. Was this some sort of birthday prank? One of Vince's strange jokes?

But a second later, Vince jumped down from the stage, grinning, and put his arms around Howard. The two of them began slow dancing to a song Howard didn't recognise, Vince's head resting dreamily on Howard's shoulder, Howard holding Vince as if he never wanted to let him go again. By the third song, they were openly snogging, which everyone said was just revolting, I mean this bloke was at least forty, if not fifty!

An indignant gossipy buzz went around the room, but eventually most people shrugged and got over it. For one thing, they had seen Vince with more than thirty girlfriends, but they'd never seen him look so content or so besotted with anyone as he did with Howard.

Vince's thirty-two ex-girlfriends were the only ones who couldn't get over Vince preferring Howard to them, giving the pair of them looks that ranged from disdain to loathing. Eventually a group of them went into the ladies' and had a soothing bitch session, where they raked over every single flaw, real and imagined, that they had detected in Howard. After that, they got over it as well.

As one of them said, Vince seemed so happy now, didn't he? And wasn't that the important thing?

*************************************************************************

Howard didn't know where Vince had got to. They had gone into a dark corner for a bit of privacy, and after Howard sat down, Vince had poured himself into his lap, and they'd been all over each other. After so long apart, Howard couldn't even think when Vince touched or kissed him, and having Vince's lips on his was making his mind hum euphorically.

He had a huge stiffy, and every time Vince leaned in for another snog, he rubbed himself against the tip, until Howard thought he might come in his pants. Then he realised that at least he would be coming in his pants legally, and this thought alone made him so excited that he nearly creamed his jeans on the spot.

Vince had said he had to go do something, given him a lip-bruising kiss, and got up, brushing down his clothes and giving Howard a seductive backward glance over his shoulder as he left. Thinking about the sight of Vince's arse in skin tight leather distracted Howard for a while, but it had been ten minutes, and he thought Vince should have returned by now.

Howard went to the toilets, looking for Vince at the same time, then did a quick lap of the ballroom to see if Vince was mingling with his guests. Finally he thought he'd talk to Naboo and Bollo, and see if they knew anything.

"Hey ballbag, you dropped this", was Naboo's greeting, pushing something hard and metallic into Howard's palm before turning his back.

Howard looked down. It was a hotel room key. He took a moment to think, then strode purposefully towards the lifts, making a quick detour to grab his present back from the gift table. When he reached Room 42, he lifted his hand to knock, then realised that seemed a bit stupid when he'd been given a key, so he turned the lock, and cautiously walked in.

A lamp was already on, but the room appeared empty. Howard put his present down on a table, and sat on the end of the bed. He rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his messy hair, wondering where Vince was.

*****************************************************************

"Alright Howard?", said Vince, coming quietly out of the bathroom and standing between Howard's thighs. He had removed his shoes and hairband, and his hair swung loose around his shoulders.

"Vince", said Howard, putting his large hands around Vince's slender hips. "You got us a hotel room?".

"Nah, Dad got it for me", replied Vince. "You know, so I didn't have to go back tonight. He always stays at this hotel in London".

"Um ... your _dad_?".

"Yeah, Bryan. He's going to adopt me, so he's my dad now. He got papers drawn up, all proper and everything. We're seeing the solicitor next week".

"Wow, that's great. Is Bryan in the hotel too?", asked Howard nervously.

"Yeah, he has a suite on the top floor. Don't worry, he's nowhere near us", said Vince, nuzzling into Howard. "You can scream as loud as you want".

"Vince, don't you think we should talk?", said Howard, leaning back from Vince until he was lying on the bed. "We haven't had a chance since we've seen each other".

"Mm, and we haven't had a chance to do this either", said Vince, lying on top of Howard and kissing him deeply. "Not properly".

Howard always expected Vince's kisses to be sweet and awkward, the kisses of a shy schoolboy. But they never had been. Vince was a smooth, experienced kisser, his lips moist and tender, but always in control of the situation. Howard's mind clocked off again, unable to think of anything except the pleasure of being with Vince.

"Fuck, you're driving me nuts, Vince", groaned Howard, pulling Vince closer.

"I wish you'd bum me silly", Vince whispered, licking Howard's ear.

"Do you even know what that entails?", Howard demanded.

"Lube and condoms in that drawer", said Vince laconically. "I bought them in case".

"I'd come before I even opened the lube", snorted Howard. "I'm not going to last a minute".

"Ooh, stop it with the sexy pillow talk", grinned Vince, unbuttoning Howard's shirt and running his fingers over his scars.

"I'm serious, I nearly came in my pants just having you on my lap", said Howard. "It's been months, Vince".

Vince started throwing his clothes off, while trying to unzip Howard's jeans and drag them off him. Howard undid Vince's leather drainpipes, but his chances of getting them down were somewhere between slim and none; Vince wriggled himself out of them while Howard took the rest of his clothes off.

Vince got back on top of Howard and started grinding on him, their cocks getting wet and slippery with precum as they rubbed together.

"You can come as fast as you like", panted Vince. "Just let me feel your big hard cock".

"It's half a minute now, you saucy minx", warned Howard.

"You feel so good", moaned Vince, riding Howard faster and faster.

"Oh fuck, Vince", gasped Howard.

"I love you, gorgeous".

"My sweet baby".

******************************************************************

"I missed you so much, little man", Howard said, putting his arms around Vince.

"I went mental without you", said Vince, snuggling into Howard.

"I couldn't sleep properly".

"I nearly failed school".

"You didn't though?", Howard said worriedly, looking at Vince.

"Nah, I went into a special class for thick kids so I could catch up", said Vince. "And I got a tutor".

"I saw someone who looked like you, and I went into the toilets and cried", admitted Howard.

"I never felt lonely before, but I was so lonely without you", said Vince.

"My poor darling", said Howard, kissing Vince. "What made you phone my parents' house?".

"Oh ... I dunno", said Vince. "I just wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to know you still loved me".

Howard stroked Vince's hair and pressed his face into his neck.

"Did you get into trouble from your parents?", Vince asked.

"They gave me the bollocking of a lifetime", Howard said. "They love you, though. They can't wait to meet you and have you stay with them".

"Your mum is really nice", Vince said. "She didn't get cross with me at all".

"No, she saved all that up for me", said Howard drily. "Started screeching at me that I'd seduced an innocent schoolboy".

"Didn't you tell her that you saved my life?", asked Vince.

"You don't have much experience with mothers, Vince, but they don't tend to like hearing about lives needing to be saved all the time. It makes them nervous".

"So you can't tell her about me saving you from Baboo Yagu?", asked Vince disappointedly.

"I don't think my parents would want to hear about magic either", said Howard apologetically. "They're practical sort of people and wouldn't believe in it".

"But they have to meet Bryan!", said Vince in distress. "He's magical, and Lord of the Forest ... what are they going to think?".

"Trust me, they're going to be dead impressed just meeting Bryan Ferry", Howard assured him.

There was a short silence, and then Vince said, "Howard?".

"Mm?".

"Did you really not meet anyone else in Leeds? You know, that you liked".

Howard cuddled Vince, holding his hands and kissing the base of his throat.

"I met people, and I liked some of them, but not the way you mean", said Howard. "I never even thought about being with someone else, Vince – you're so incredible that nobody else has a chance with me. I always said that I'd wait for you".

"I didn't - ", began Vince, but Howard stopped him.

"Vince, I don't need to hear about it. That's your business. I just want to know that you want me now, now that you're eighteen and free to choose".

"No, but I really didn't get with anyone else", protested Vince. "And I got lots of offers too".

"Girls or boys?", asked Howard.

"Both", said Vince. "But I always told them I had a boyfriend away in Leeds. But you know what, Howard? Telling them that made a lot of them more interested. Especially the blokes".

"It might not have been a bad idea, really", said Howard thoughtfully. "I worry that you haven't spent enough time experimenting with other people".

"I don't want to", said Vince. "I'd rather experiment with you, Howard. You're so much better than anybody else – you're handsome and sexy and cool, and you're so wise, and so amazing".

"Vince, I'm really not like that", said Howard.

"And the best part is, you don't even realise it", said Vince fondly. "You've got so much to give, Howard".

And then there was no more talking for a while, because their mouths were busy communicating in a different fashion.

After a while, Howard stopped snogging Vince to say, "Vince, there's something else I have to tell you".

"Yes, Howard?", said Vince warily. It didn't sound like good news was coming.

"My parents don't want me seeing you until you've finished school", said Howard, speaking faster than usual. "I know you're an adult, but they're teachers, and they worry that I'll be a distraction when you're doing exams".

Howard waited for Vince to cry out, or argue with him, but nothing happened.

"Okay, Howard", said Vince in a subdued voice. "I suppose it makes sense, and it's only about a month away".

"And we can contact each other now", Howard said quickly. "I'll email you every day, and phone you once a week".

"Promise?".

"Promise".

**********************************************************************

After they'd had a shower together and got changed into the hotel's fluffy white bathrobes, Vince asked if he could open the present Howard had brought with him. He lifted it off the table, saying it felt light for such a large box, and then undid the big gold ribbon at the top, eagerly tearing off the white and gold paper. When he opened the box, he found it was filled with paper, and lifting something out, discovered it was an envelope dated May 23 1996. He gave Howard a quizzical look.

"I wrote to you every day, Vince", Howard said. "I wasn't allowed to talk to you, or send you anything, but I wrote you a letter for each day we were apart, and saved them all for you".

Vince opened the envelope.

_Dear Vince,_

_Only a couple more days until we can see each other again. I find myself getting nervous about seeing you – wondering if you'll feel the same way. Maybe you'll take one look at me, and realise what a bloody terrible mistake you made. Ha ha (hopefully this is a joke). I hope you liked your flowers on your birthday, it's so hard not hearing from you, not even to know whether I chose the right flowers or not. Do you know, a funny thing happened at work today. You see, Ray ..._

"Howard, this is amazing", said Vince, rifling for envelopes further and further back in time.

He found his Valentine's Day card from Howard, which showed a man looking sad, with couples all around him kissing and holding hands. Inside it read: _Even though we have to spend Valentine's Day apart, I will be thinking about you every second of the_ _day._ A smaller illustration in one corner showed the man lying on his single bed, with a thought bubble filled with love hearts, and a big smile on his face. Howard had written: _Darling Vince, I miss you so much. I hope we can spend all the other Valentine's_ _Days of our lives together. All my love, Howard xxx_

The card was attached to a small present wrapped in paper with a pink pattern of hearts, and inside was Vince's Valentine's Day present – an agate bead bracelet which Howard had bought at the markets in Leeds.

"I thought the blue matched your eyes", said Howard shyly, putting the bracelet around Vince's left wrist and doing up the clasp.

"I'll never take it off", vowed Vince, kissing Howard. "At least, not until we see each other again".

There were more layers of envelopes, some plump and filled with news, others thin with just a single sheet of sad longing or aching need in them. Right at the bottom of the box was something heavy, but still with a papery feel.

Vince lifted it out, and found that it was a manuscript that Howard had had made into a book with plastic binding and cover. The title page had THE FOREST BOY written on it. On the second page was written _Dedicated to V, who introduced me to the forest._

Vince looked up at Howard with questioning eyes.

"I finished my book, Vince", Howard said with a sort of suppressed pride. "I got a copy bound for you to keep, and you're the first person to see it. I'm submitting the proper manuscript to Hamilton Cork on Monday morning before I go back to Leeds".

"It's about me?", whispered Vince, stroking the manuscript gently.

"It's inspired by you", Howard corrected him. "About your childhood growing up in the forest, all the adventures you had. I expect it will seen as magic realism".

"Bryan is going to go mental", said Vince, his face white. "I'm not joking Howard – he'll see this as a betrayal. He'll probably sue if this ever gets published".

"Bryan helped me a lot while I was writing it", said Howard. "I couldn't have done it without him, and he let me know exactly what things it was okay to write about and which things were off-limits. It's a work of fiction ... and I've made the location of the forest so ambiguous and contradictory that nobody will ever be able to find it. I've already posted Bryan his copy".

" _The boy lay outstretched on a branch of the largest tree in the forest, warming himself in the sun_ ", Vince read aloud from the first page, " _but no matter how his eyelids drooped in the drowsiness of the summer afternoon, he could not allow himself to fall_ _asleep_ ".

"What do you think?", asked Howard.

"It's genius, that's exactly how it was for me", said Vince, thumbing through the manuscript. "I never thought you'd write a book about me. What's the boy in the forest called?".

"Noel", said Howard.

"Yeah? Why Noel?", asked Vince.

"It's an anagram of LONE, because the boy is growing up completely apart from the everyday world", explained Howard.

"It seems like a weird name for a boy growing up in a forest", said Vince doubtfully.

"I don't see how it's any more strange than a boy named Vince who was raised in a forest", said Howard with the protective air of an author with his new baby. "Anyway, if the publisher hates it, they'll make me change it to something else".

"Nobody's ever given me a present like this", said Vince wonderingly. "This is the most amazing birthday – seeing you, the party, the hotel, the bracelet, the flowers, the card, getting all your letters to read, and then a novel written about me as well. Nothing is ever going to top this".

"We'll see", smiled Howard. "We'll be in Europe for your nineteenth birthday, and I want to make sure we're somewhere really special for it".

"Any more surprises for me?", said Vince suggestively, leaning back on the bed, letting his bathrobe open a little to show his firm, strong thighs.

Howard slipped down from the bed and knelt on the floor in front of Vince.

"Yeah, maybe", he said, looking up at Vince with the sort of expression which demonstrated that the doorman's instincts about Howard had been right on target. "You don't know how many nights I've lain awake, thinking about drinking your cum".

"That's well pervy", purred Vince, opening his bathrobe even further so Howard could put his hand around his cock. "Are you always going to be this dirty with me, Howard?".

"Filthy like an old shoe", promised Howard, before his mouth came hungrily down upon Vince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vince copies the 1995 rom-com "Clueless" by using his Polaroid to study all his outfits, like the film's heroine, Cher. I could just imagine Vince seeing the movie and wanting to do that. Wait a minute. Cute, blond, ditzy, image-obsessed teenage protagonist from a wealthy single-dad household who can't remember their mother and is attached to their demanding father. Not academic but great people skills. Self-centred yet warm-hearted. Popular with peers and adored by adults. Can't drive. In love with an older, more intellectual man who's considered "boring". Oh my God. Mind. Blown. 
> 
> Bryan Ferry, an art school graduate, was a pottery teacher before he founded Roxy Music. Sally is one of the few people who would be more excited to meet Bryan Ferry the former pottery teacher than Bryan Ferry the pop star.
> 
> Mimosa (acacia) symbolises hidden love and concealed affairs. In the language of flowers, to send someone mimosa is to say: "You are exquisite". It is artistic licence to have these early spring flowers sent in late May, though.
> 
> Lily-of-the-valley, like other lilies and white flowers in general, are favourites to give in tribute to the dead, and to lay on graves. They are symbolic of tears shed, and are especially associated with motherhood. They are one of the national flowers of France, too. They symbolise a return to happiness and luck in love, hinting that better times are ahead for the tearful Vince. 
> 
> The Marwood Hotel is named after the character from the film "Withnail and I" (Marwood is the "I" of the film, although his name is never referred to during the film itself). Centred in 1969 Camden, it's a buddy road movie comedy which is really quite Booshy, and a favourite film of Julian's. The story says the Marwood is opposite the train station in Camden, but in our world there's no room for it there; possibly it means that Vince is looking right over to the next road, as the streets converge on that corner. Its appearance is perhaps somewhat influenced by the former Midland Grand Hotel at St Pancras Station.
> 
> In our world, it is not possible to adopt an adult in the UK, and only recently have there been moves towards supporting foster families so they can keep their foster-children with them after they turn eighteen. Before this, children in care were often left to fend for themselves as soon as they reached legal adulthood. It was a cruel system, and not one I wanted to throw Vince into (he's a delicate flower). So I made it so that Bryan could adopt Vince as an adult, which is legal in several countries now. He would have continued supporting Vince even if adoption hadn't been possible, but this way Vince's position is much more secure, especially in terms of inheritance and access to Bryan. I also wanted to make it clear that Vince didn't need Howard as a substitute father; he's choosing Howard from love, not necessity. I mean, sure Vince has daddy issues, but he's got a dad to take care of him, so that Howard is free to just be a boyfriend (um, who's quite paternal ...). 
> 
> Room 42 is an allusion to the jazz-funk fusion band Level 42, who take their name from the importance of the number 42 being the answer to life, the universe, and everything in "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" by Douglas Adams. You'll probably recall the band being mentioned in the episode "The Hitcher" ... hmm ...
> 
> In Hindu tradition, agate is one of the birth stones for Gemini, Vince's zodiac sign (and Noel's), with the blue type of the stone being especially linked with the sign. Agate is supposed to help lift the intellect and give it greater concentration – good news for Vince's exams. When worn on the left hand, it is supposed to help people gain success in a creative field, giving them the drive to continue even after serious setbacks. It is meant to aid Geminis be more focused and ready to accept responsibility, as a symbol of Vince's greater maturity. (Semiprecious stones are often sold at markets along with little information cards, so it wouldn't surprise me if Howard had bought the bracelet with all this consciously in mind). 
> 
> You might think that the sexual contact Howard and Vince have at the hotel is legal, since Vince is now eighteen. Howard clearly thinks it's legal too. But actually, sexual contact between men was only legal if it was conducted in private, and according to the law, hotels were deemed to be public property. There were arrests and convictions of men sharing hotel rooms in the 1990s, but Howard and Vince are under the powerful protection of Bryan Ferry, which keeps them safe. Vince wouldn't be the first person to have special treatment under the law because he's got a rich daddy.


	28. Thinking About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard promised to call Vince every week, and Howard always keeps his promises. Yes, this is a phone sex chapter. That's basically it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I miss you baby  
> And I've got those feelings again ...  
> What good is being here without you  
> I want to know  
> I feel so in love  
> Oh baby, what can I do?  
> All I do is think about you 
> 
> I've Been Thinking About You – Londonbeat 
> 
> I'd like to make love to your voice. ~ Julian Barratt
> 
> Oh, your creamy voice ... Can you believe anyone could sound that creamy? ~ Noel Fielding

It was Saturday night, and Vince was in his room, waiting impatiently for Howard's weekly phone call. He always rang at eight pm on the dot, and there was still ten minutes to go. He could ring Howard, but Howard would tell him not to waste his phone credit when he was just about to call Vince. He couldn't settle to anything, but lay on his bed, fidgeting nervously, and staring at his phone as if he could will it to ring.

Howard always phoning on Saturday meant that Vince couldn't go out that night, but he didn't mind. If anyone ever asked him, he said, "Sorry, I'm expecting a phone call from my boyfriend in Leeds". And it meant Howard wasn't going out on Saturday nights either.

Getting his phone call from Howard was so incredible that he spent all week looking forward it, and replaying their last conversation simultaneously. Daily emails were great, he always had a grin on his face after reading them, but they were no substitute for hearing Howard's voice.

He went off into a little daydream that was suddenly shattered when the phone rang. He grabbed at it, swore as he knocked it off the bed, and clicked the answer button as soon as he picked it up, not waiting until he had it near his ear. He didn't want Howard to think he couldn't answer.

"Vince?", said Howard hesitantly. "You there?".

"Yeah Howard, I'm here", said Vince, his voice already sounding breathy. "You alright, Howard?".

"I am now I can hear you", said Howard, sounding relieved. "Been studying hard, little man?".

"Yeah, but not tonight", said Vince. "Can't concentrate when I'm waiting for your call".

Howard gave a low chuckle.

"Is Leroy there?", he asked.

"No, he's out with Sally", said Vince. "I'm on my own, Howard".

"Good. Lock the door", said Howard. "Don't want anyone barging in while we're ... talking".

"Right-oh", said Vince, jumping up and pulling the door lock over into position. "Are you alone, Howard?".

"Yeah. Mum and Dad are out for the night".

"Where are they?".

"Lord knows. They go out all the time. They've got a much better social life than me", said Howard.

There was a slight pause, and then Vince said, "Ask me something, Howard. Anything".

"What are you wearing?", said Howard, with an amused tone in his voice.

Vince gave a little huff of a laugh, and said, "Black jeans and a pink tee shirt. Same thing I wore the first time you asked me over to your flat".

"I love that outfit", Howard said nostalgically. "I thought you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and couldn't believe you'd agreed to come over. You should've been running a mile from me".

"You never said I looked beautiful", said Vince reproachfully. "All you said was 'great tee shirt'".

"That was code for _Take your shirt off and let me run my hands all over your sexy little body_ ", explained Howard.

"Huh, you wouldn't even give me a cuddle", said Vince. "Kept flinching from me".

"That's because I didn't want to get a stiffy, in case it frightened you away", teased Howard.

"I wouldn't have been frightened", said Vince with a little giggle.

"What would you have done about it?", Howard asked, his voice lower and deeper.

"I dunno", said Vince. "Might have reached over and rubbed it".

"Did you think about doing that?", asked Howard.

"Nah, not that night", said Vince. "I didn't know how I felt about you, Howard. I liked you, and I wanted to cuddle you, and I wanted you to like me, but I didn't really know what that meant. Except I kept wanking over you".

"You did?", asked Howard in surprise. "That soon?".

"Yeah, I wanked over you twice that night, while I was getting ready", said Vince.

"What did you think about?", Howard wanted to know.

"Imagined you licking me all over", said Vince, sounding out of breath.

"That's ... something I would have liked doing", said Howard, his voice strained.

"Yeah?", encouraged Vince. "Did you ever wank over me, Howard? I mean, that soon?".

"Mm. And every time I ended up feeling so ashamed", confessed Howard. "I felt like a dirty old creep, lusting after an innocent young schoolboy".

"Wasn't that innocent", said Vince. "What did you think about?".

"Sometimes I didn't think at all", said Howard. "Not really. Just ... picturing how beautiful you were, how perfect. How much I wanted you ... and then I'd be pulling myself off, telling myself I should be thrown in prison just for looking at you".

"It's not wrong now though", said Vince. "What are you wearing, Howard?".

"Pants", said Howard primly. "I'm in bed".

"What kind of pants?", asked Vince.

"Boring old blue pants, not at all sexy", said Howard. "In fact I think the elastic's coming loose".

"That happens to all your pants", said Vince with a delighted giggle. "It's because your dick's so big, it destroys all your pants".

"Stop it, you little tart", said Howard, pretending to be shocked.

"Oh don't act like you don't love it", said Vince. "I bet you're touching yourself right now, aren't you?".

"Mm, just through my pants", agreed Howard. "What are you doing?".

"Lying on my stomach, rubbing myself against the mattress", said Vince.

"Take your jeans off", ordered Howard.

There was a few moments of Vince unzipping his jeans and pulling them off over his bare feet.

"They're gone now Howard", Vince said with a note of excitement in his voice.

"What pants have you got on?", Howard murmured.

"Neon pink, to match my tee shirt", said Vince.

"Where did you find pink boy's pants?", Howard demanded.

"They're not boy's pants, they're girl's pants", Vince said.

There was an intake of breath on the other end.

"So what do your frilly little knickers look like, then?", Howard asked, with prurient interest.

"Plain pink cotton, trimmed with white lace. No frills".

"You have to send me a picture of you wearing them", said Howard, breathing heavily. "Take a Polaroid and post it to me".

"Yes Howard", said Vince. "And you send me one of you in your blue pants. One I'll really like".

"Are you touching yourself now?", asked Howard. "Got your hand down your little knickers?".

"Yes, Howard", said Vince. "I'm touching myself pretending it's your hand".

"You're not cold, are you?", said Howard, suddenly worried.

"Nah, I'm in bed under the covers", Vince reassured him. Just knowing Howard cared about him made him feel warmer.

"When was the last time you wanked over me?", Howard asked, his voice so smooth and creamy that Vince could have swooned.

"This morning", Vince admitted. "I imagined you bumming me, Howard. You came up behind me, and started fucking me, really hard. You were pounding me with your big cock, and it felt amazing".

"Vince, you know I'd never do that in real life, don't you?", asked a concerned Howard.

"What, you'll never bum me?".

"No ... I mean, I'd never hurt you like that", said Howard. "Your first few times will probably be a bit uncomfortable, you know Vince. But I'll do everything I can to make it easier for you".

"What will you do, Howard?", whispered Vince, genuinely eager for information.

"Take ages to get you ready", said Howard. "Make sure you really want it. I'd use my tongue on your little hole, lick you until you opened for me".

Vince made a humming noise that signalled interest.

"Then I'd put one finger inside you", continued Howard. "Just the tip at first, and then in further when you said it was alright. I'd keep going until you could take three of my fingers, all the way".

"And then what, Howard?", asked Vince breathlessly, moving his hand in long strokes.

"When you were ready I'd slide my cock into you", said Howard. "I wouldn't put it all the way in until you told me to. I'd use a ton of lube. I'd go so slow and gentle on you, darling".

"That'd be genius, Howard", said Vince. "I want to feel you inside me".

"Are you getting nice and wet, Vince?".

"M'yeah, I'm leaking everywhere, all over my hand", said Vince with a little moan.

"Me too", said Howard, breathing heavily. "What else do you want to do, Vince?".

"Suck you off", said Vince. "Want your huge cock in my mouth, Howard. I want ... taste it, drink it".

Howard groaned.

"Saucy little vixen. Make me so hard. Just thinking about you".

"Getting really close now", Vince whined.

"Mm, come for me, baby", Howard crooned. "I want you to cream your little lacy knickers"

There was a gasp from Vince in reply.

"You look so good when you come, so beautiful", said Howard, breathing hard. "Come baby, I'm going to come with you. I'm right here, sweetheart".

"Oh fuck Howard yes, fuck me Howard, please Howard", babbled Vince, while Howard moaned in response, then gave one long sigh.

Vince giggled.

"That was well pervy, Howard", he said, sounding sleepy and content. "I love how filthy you talk".

"Mm, very nice", said a satisfied Howard. "Did you soak your little knickers, Vince?".

"Yeah they're sticky with spunk", said Vince. "I have to take them off now".

He slid his pants off and flung them into his open wardrobe – he would put them in his washing bag when he got up.

"My blue pants fell apart in all the excitement", announced Howard. "I'll have to send you a picture of me in different pants".

"Told you", said Vince lazily. "As soon as your massive dick gets hard, it attacks your pants and they come to bits".

"Doesn't that worry you?", said Howard, half-joking, half-serious.

"No, because you're going to take care of me", said Vince trustingly. "You'll be gentle with me, Howard. You always are".

"I just wish I really knew what I was doing", sighed Howard.

"S'okay, Howard. We'll learn together", said Vince.

"And we don't have to rush into anything", said Howard.

"Well, don't take too long to bum me", said Vince. "Get me while I'm still young and pliable".

"I meant that we'd start off slowly. You know, I'd just use my hands and tongue on you until you felt ready for more. And you can bum me any time you want".

Vince gave a soft giggle, and there was a pause as he considered that. Howard might have been using the pause to consider something too, because his voice was suddenly in Vince's ear, with a quickened interest.

"Vince, you know the little pink lacy knickers you were wearing just now?".

"Yeah?".

"Do you think ... I mean if you don't mind ... well, do you think ... could you post them to me?".


	29. Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard and Vince are reunited and go out on their first official date as two adults, but Howard discovers that being out with Vince isn't exactly how he imagined, and Vince wonders if he and Howard are truly equals. Are all their problems over, or have they only just begun? Warning: disability played for mild laughs, in line with canon. I've been having a lot of real life issues and haven't done much editing of this chapter, so apologies for its roughness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's get together again, all you need is here to stay  
> Let's get together again, forget about your yesterdays
> 
> Let's Get Together Again – The Human League
> 
> Like any relationship, we usually argue about silly things. I’m a bit like a dad, while Noel’s like the wife, a bit ditzy ... When he’s getting dressed up, I’m usually saying, "Hurry up, we’ve got to be out of here". It’s quite old fashioned really. ~ Julian Barratt 
> 
> I like his grin. He has a lupine face; looks like a wolf from the side. That's what attracted me to him in the first place. He's a wolfish man. ~ Noel Fielding

Howard stood nervously in the porch of the boarding house in Clapton, gathering the courage to knock. When he finally did so, there was no answer – loud music blaring from a stereo inside probably explained why. Howard rang the bell instead, wondering if anyone was going to answer that, either. The door suddenly opened, and there was a very tall, thin young man with pink dyed hair in front of him, dressed in an ensemble that Howard mentally identified as Neo-Urban Pimp.

"Can I help you?", asked the art student, looking Howard up and down. Howard felt keenly aware that his trousers were too baggy, his jacket didn't quite match them, and his tie was all wrong.

"Um yeah, I'm looking for Vince. Vince Noir", said Howard.

The student gave Howard another dubious look, then turned around, yelling, "VIII-IIII-IINCE, your dad's here".

Vince looked curiously through the door of the common room, then shrieked, "Howard! Howard!", as he ran at top speed down the corridor. Howard thought it was a bit like _Wuthering Heights_ , if it had been set in a Clapton boarding house, and Catherine had been a skinny teenage boy in Cuban heels. That was probably a student play on somewhere.

Vince threw himself into Howard's arms and wrapped his legs around his waist. Howard held Vince's buttocks rather self-consciously as Vince kissed his cheek, and then let his face nestle into Howard's shoulder.

"I missed you so much, little man", Howard whispered furtively into Vince's ear, wishing the students would stop hanging around and staring. "Are you ready to go?".

"I just have to grab a jacket", smiled Vince, sliding down from Howard's arms. "Come with me, Howard".

Vince pulled Howard into his bedroom by the hand, shutting the door behind them, then stood by the wardrobe with his hand on his hip, glancing at Howard flirtatiously.

"Is what I'm wearing okay for where you're taking me?", asked Vince.

Vince had on the same black leather drainpipes and high-heeled boots he wore to his birthday party, but this time with a transparent loose crimson blouse. He still wore the blue bracelet Howard had given him for Valentine's Day.

"It's perfect", said Howard, who could hardly stop staring. "I thought we might go to a cocktail bar in Islington I saw in _Time Out_ ".

"Just cocktails?", asked Vince with a raised eyebrow. "Planning to get me pissed so you can have your wicked way with me?".

"No, no", said Howard, worriedly. "Nothing like that. They serve all different drinks and there's food as well. It's just a normal dinner and night out".

Vince grinned at Howard fondly; sometimes he took teasing too seriously.

Howard's idea of grabbing a jacket was that you quickly took the jacket you'd neatly left on the bed in preparation, and left. But he soon discovered this was not what Vince meant by the phrase.

First Vince went through his wardrobe trying on different jackets, before selecting a purple one. Then he rifled through his drawers and tried different scarves until he found a silver one that he liked, experimenting with how to wrap it around his neck properly. Finally he did his eye make-up over again, and freshened up his pink lip gloss, ending with dabbing a drop of something that smelt like strawberry bubblegum at the base of his throat.

Howard realised he was going to have to get used to Vince's going out routine, and sat on the bed with the patiently long-suffering expression worn by many other boyfriends on a Saturday evening. He had to admit the results were worth it.

"How do I look?", asked Vince, giving a twirl.

"Far too good for me", said Howard sincerely.

"Can you check I look okay in the back?", asked Vince. "The mirror only shows me the front".

Howard came over and slid his hands down Vince's hips, cupping his arse cheeks and giving them a little squeeze.

"The back looks great from here", Howard murmured, running his mouth down Vince's neck.

He watched in the mirror as Vince arched his hips, and stretched his arms up towards Howard, bending his head down like a swan so that his neck was easier to kiss. Howard's hands skimmed over Vince's stomach, forming a triangle around his thighs and abdomen. In the mirror, he could see how responsive Vince was to his touch, how his body moved in pleasure, and that made his hands and mouth bolder.

"So how do I look?", asked Vince, twisting around.

"Beautiful, elegant, and very, very sexy", averred Howard, taking Vince into his arms and kissing him deeply. "I like the blond streaks you've put in your hair".

"Oh, sorry if I interrupted anything", said Leroy; they hadn't heard the door open.

"Hi, Leroy", said Vince smugly from Howard's arms.

"Nice to see you again, Leroy", said Howard, looking embarrassed.

"Yeah you too, Howard", said Leroy. "It's okay, I'm not staying, Vince. Mum and Dad are taking me and Sally out to dinner. I just came in to grab a jacket".

Leroy picked up his jacket from the end of the bed, threw it over one shoulder, and waved goodbye.

"We should get going too", said Howard, dropping a little kiss into the corner of Vince's mouth.

Vince gave a little sigh, but dragged himself apart from Howard.

"I suppose I should ask how _I_ look", said Howard, with a concerned glance down at what he was wearing. He wondered if people would think Vince was out with a vagrant for charity.

"Gorgeous", said Vince warmly. "Just unbutton your jacket to show off your classic white linen shirt, lose the tie, and undo the top two buttons of your shirt".

Vince's fingers were busily unbuttoning here, tucking in there, throwing the tie in the bin, pulling the jacket to alter its line, and somehow patting down the trousers until they looked far less baggy, and by some obscure fashion magic, even seemed to match Howard's jacket and shoes better than they did before.

"There, now you're perfect", said Vince with satisfaction, stretching up to kiss Howard on the nose. "And don't worry about your shirt – linen is meant to look rumpled like that".

He took Howard's hand and led him out of the boarding house, Howard thinking that he hadn't known his shirt looked rumpled until now. He tugged at it ineffectually, undoing quite a bit of Vince's handiwork.

"Who was that?", one of the students mumbled as he looked up from his game of cards.

"Just that kid Noir and his dad. They seem really close", his companion replied, putting down what he hoped was a winning hand.

*******************************************************************

Howard and Vince walked hand in hand down a narrow street in Islington, parking having proved an absolute nightmare once again.

"People aren't going to be upset about two blokes holding hands, are they?", Vince asked. "They got well pissed off at The White Hart, just because Leroy and I put our make-up on in the men's bogs".

"We're going to a trendy cocktail bar in Islington, not a scruffy pub in Upper Clapton", Howard reassured him.

The cocktail bar was at basement level down a flight of stairs and very dimly-lit so as to appear intimate and romantic. It was so intimate that Howard hoped he didn't bang into anything on the way to the bar. Vince didn't seem to have any trouble seeing in the dark, and led him by the hand. Howard gave a sigh of relief when they reached the softly-illuminated bar without any misadventure, and both sat down on stools.

"Good evening, may I take the lady's order, please?", asked the barman.

Howard looked hesitant.

"Ladies first is the rule", the barman added with a hint of sternness.

"Oh, what would you like .... um, sweetheart?", Howard asked Vince.

"I'd love a Cosmopolitan, please", Vince smiled at the barman. He'd decided since his birthday this was going to be his signature drink.

"Very good, and for you sir?".

"Rusty Nail, thanks", said Howard.

After the barman put their drinks in front of them, and Howard had paid him, Vince pulled Howard away from the bar and onto a sofa that had been placed in a corner to form an intimate little nook. It was small enough that they had to sit close together, and Howard wrapped one arm around Vince's shoulders to keep him safe, while Vince nestled himself into Howard's chest. He had a talent for making himself seem much smaller than Howard, and his boyfriend loved the way Vince was able to curl up beside him in the tiniest of spaces. Howard put his lips against one of Vince's ears and kissed it in appreciation, before taking a sip of his drink.

"What're you drinking?", asked Vince.

"Rusty Nail – it's Scotch with Scotch liqueur", Howard replied.

"Oh, that's such a _manly_ -sounding drink!", Vince said in amusement.

"Whereas you're having a very girly drink", murmured Howard teasingly.

"Mm, it's sweet and pretty", Vince agreed.

"So are you", said Howard, his drink making him more daring. He ran his hand down Vince's thigh, and left it there.

"Is this music they've got on jazz?", Vince asked, after a while.

"Yeah ... a soft, loungey sort of swing jazz", said Howard. "Like something the Rat Pack would have listened to".

"I never did learn anything about jazz", Vince said. "I promised myself I'd learn all about it while we were apart, and impress you when you got back, but I didn't".

"You've already impressed me", Howard said, his fingers drawing little circles on Vince's knee. "I've missed being with you so much".

Vince kissed Howard's hand, and snuggled up even closer. He felt almost dizzy being so close to Howard, his scent rising from under the clean soap smell in the warm cocktail bar. It was so long since his birthday party, and being able to touch Howard again was amazing, he didn't ever want to stop. Vince ran his hands up Howard's shirt, under his jacket, until Howard felt an embarassing desire to groan with pleasure.

"Another drink?", he said abruptly, standing up.

Howard had to wait at the bar for someone else to be served, a stockbroker type in a grey suit he imagined would be more at home propping up the bar at his local golf club. Once the other man had his drink, he turned to Howard and asked, "That your girlfriend?", his head nodding towards Vince on the sofa.

"Er ... not exactly", said Howard uncomfortably.

"What do you mean by that?", the man frowned. "Either she is, or she isn't".

"This is only our first date", Howard said. "At least, our first proper, official, going-out date".

"I see", the man said, but not as if he did. "She's quite pretty. Bit unusual". He sounded surprised, although whether he was surprised Howard had landed a pretty date, or was surprised to discover he'd found Vince pretty was not clear. Perhaps both.

"Exquisite", Howard corrected him.

"Bit young for you, isn't she?", the man said.

"We're a few years apart", Howard said, wishing he'd go away.

"More than a few, I'd say", the man snickered.

Howard was getting tired of these rude personal questions, and wished the barman would hurry up with his order. He was almost sure a blonde woman with glasses had pushed in ahead of him, and gave her a fierce glare, just in case she had.

He looked over towards Vince, who was chatting with a group of young women who looked as if they were having drinks after work – they were all dressed as if for the office. He strained to listen, but could only catch a few words.

" .... seen you around ... Camden ..."

"... no, I'm not .... model .... artist".

" ... knew you were .... arty. _Love_ ... outfit. Can I ...?".

To Howard's irritation, Vince went off to the women's toilets with his new-found friends. Bloody hell, we're on a _date_!, Howard fumed. And Vince will be arrested or something if he's caught in the ladies'. What's he playing at?

Once he had both their drinks, Howard went back to the sofa and prepared to work himself into a thoroughly foul mood over Vince's behaviour. He hadn't got very far into it when Vince returned, waving to his instant gang of friends and admirers as they left.

"Alright, Howard?", said Vince with a smile, dropping a quick kiss on his cheek as he sat down.

"Here's your drink", said Howard with a touch of asperity.

"Mm, thanks", Vince said, sipping it. "I missed you".

"You didn't look like it", griped Howard. "Looked like you were having a great time without me".

"Well, there's no point having a horrible time on our date, is there?", said Vince reasonably. "They recognised me from clubbing in Camden. It would've been rude not to talk to them".

"And you went off to the toilets with them because ...?".

"I needed a wee", said Vince simply. "And it seemed safer to go in a group. I mean, this looks like a nice place, but you never know, do you?".

Howard gave up trying to get into a bad mood, and instead half-listened to Vince relate some juicy titbits of girly Camden gossip.

" .... And then I told them I was on a date with my gorgeous boyfriend, a soon-to-be-published author", finished Vince. "They had to push off anyway. They're going on somewhere else".

"I'm not _soon-to-be-published_ ", protested Howard. "It's going to take years before the book comes out, and it will probably be a failure anyway".

"Everyone will love it", Vince predicted wildly. "It will win every prize going, spend eighty years on the best-seller lists, and be made into a big Hollywood blockbuster. Can I have a part in the movie, when it gets made, I mean?".

Howard made scoffing sounds, but it was very pleasant having Vince cuddled up to him, stroking his ego, and talking the sort of nonsense he enjoyed, with wild flights of fantasy. He put his arm around Vince and nuzzled his neck.

Knowing that in the dim lighting people thought Vince was a girl, he had even been seen going into the ladies' toilets, gave Howard a great sense of freedom. It wasn't that he was turned on by the thought of Vince being a girl – beneath the childish bubblegum scent Vince had a musky male aroma that drove Howard wild, and the thighs that Howard were stroking were strong and muscular.

It was just that Howard had never been able to go out in public with a date and not have to think about it, to watch himself, to keep an eye out for trouble. (Trouble that didn't usually occur, but had to be watched for, nonetheless). He didn't want to be heterosexual, just to be treated like one. An ordinary bloke, taking a pretty girl out for a quiet drink on an unremarkable Friday evening.

The drink was making Howard warm and muzzy, relaxed. He wound his fingers around Vince's wrist to play with his bracelet, and gave him a soft kiss on the lips.

"Are you ready for dinner?", Howard asked, hastily downing his own drink. "I'll just go to the loo, and then we'll go through to the restaurant. Wait here for me, sweetheart".

*****************************************************

Howard scanned the room for Vince as he came out of the men's toilets, and was annoyed to see the stockbrokery grey-suited man chatting Vince up at the bar. Vince was laughing politely at the man's jokes, and couldn't help smiling and being charming. That was Vince's way, and Howard told himself that it didn't mean he was flirting. He tried not to get jealous, with only partial success.

Vince immediately caught his eye, as if he'd been watching for Howard the whole time, and Howard heard him say something about needing to go now. Vince tried to avoid taking the phone number the man was thrusting at him, until it got to the point where only brutal discourtesy could prevent it. Vince wasn't the brutally discourteous type, so he took the number, gave a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes, and left the bar area. He waved to Howard to get his attention.

"Thanks for rescuing me from that boring twat", said Vince, screwing up the phone number and dropping it into a bin.

"I feel as if I can't leave you alone for a minute, or you'll be off with someone else", Howard complained.

"That happens every time I go out", Vince shrugged. "I can't go out without someone giving me their phone number. I _told_ you I got a lot of offers while you were away".

"You did", Howard said. "I didn't know they were going to keep going on after I got back".

"It's your fault", said Vince. "I told that bloke I had a boyfriend, and he said you'd told him you weren't my boyfriend. Why did you say that? Ashamed of me, are you?".

"I didn't say that", sighed Howard. "He asked if you were my girlfriend, and I said _not exactly_ , because you're not a girl".

Vince gave a smile, and squeezed Howard's hand. "In future, if someone says something like that, just say I'm your girlfriend, or go along with them. It will cause less problems in the long run, and it's really none of their business".

"You don't mind?", said Howard, leading Vince to the restaurant area, which was through a door behind the bar.

"Why would I mind being mistaken for a girl?", asked Vince in surprise. "I like girls. They look pretty, and feel soft, and smell nice, and they like dancing and clothes. In fact, are you quite sure I'm _not_ a girl?". He gave Howard a grin.

"Very sure", said Howard, putting his arm around Vince's slender waist as they stood waiting to be shown to a table.

It didn't take long, and Howard was soon pulling Vince's chair out for him, ordering two glasses of champagne, and accepting the menus. Howard asked for the rack of lamb, and Vince for the fish.

"I'd like to propose a toast", said Howard importantly, when their champagne arrived. "Here's to the person I love above all others. Congratulations on completing school and your exams, and may all your dreams come true". He raised his glass to Vince, and they both drank.

"I don't really like wine that much, but I love champagne", Vince said, sipping from his glass.

"So have you heard back from any colleges or unis yet?", Howard asked.

"Yeah. I got an unconditional acceptance to study Art at Buckinghamshire College", Vince replied.

"Wow. Great. So we're going to live in High Wycombe, then", said Howard. "We should go there this week and check it out".

"I also got accepted into Fashion Design at Saint Martins College", said Vince, "on condition I do a foundation course with them for a year".

"But you're such a good artist, Vince", said Howard. "When you said you wanted to go to Saint Martins, I thought it would be to study painting".

"Fashion design _is_ art", Vince said. "It's sketching and drawing, plus a lot of craftmanship to make the clothes. It's turning the human body into a work of art".

"And that's really what you want to do?", asked Howard.

"Yeah, it's always been my dream to go to fashion college. I just never thought I'd get accepted into one of the best in the world", said Vince, sounding slightly overwhelmed.

"Then that's fantastic news", said Howard. "Should I order more champagne to celebrate?".

"No, I'm right", smiled Vince. "I don't want you going all gentlemanly and saying I'm too pissed for you to touch".

"Well, it's a bit different now", said Howard, "but that's probably a good idea, anyway. I have to drive home, after all".

Their meals arrived, and Howard looked over at Vince through the candlelight on the table, and thought how beautiful he was. The fact that Vince was currently attacking his fish with a knife as if trying to kill it and strewing his potatoes and salad around the plate with wild abandon showed that either Vince was exceptionally beautiful, or Howard was rather biased.

"So where are we going to live next year?", asked Vince. "I mean, I'll be doing my foundation course not far from here, so Dalston would be fine if you still wanted to keep your flat".

"Oh, well actually ... Bryan and I decided it would be better for you to live in student accomodation", said Howard with a small cough.

"What, so you and Dad are making all my decisions for me?", Vince said indignantly. "Am I meant to call you _Mum_ , now?".

"Bryan was worried that if you lived with me, you wouldn't get the full college experience", explained Howard."So I suggested you move into student accomodation instead".

"Oh, that's flipping marvellous", said Vince angrily. "My own boyfriend doesn't want to live with me. I suppose you're worried I'll hog the bathroom or take up all the wardrobe space".

"Sweetheart, don't be like that", Howard pleaded. "Bryan just wants you to enjoy being young, living with other young people, being a normal student".

"So ... what, you're an old aged pensioner?", asked Vince. "We'd be a young couple, living together, and doing normal couple things".

"Bryan wants you to be able to concentrate on your studies", Howard said. "He probably thinks I'd be a distraction".

"I thought we'd be over this bullshit once I turned eighteen", Vince said. "First it was, _No you can't see Howard because you're only a child_ , and then it was _You still can't see Howard because you need to concentrate on school_. Now I'm not allowed to be with you properly until I finish college in five years time".

"We're going travelling for a year – we'll be together every day", said Howard. "And you can stay with me on the weekends if you want to".

"I think you and Dad are trying to keep me from growing up", Vince muttered. "I'm an adult, and I should be allowed to make my own decisions. Unless there's another reason you don't want us living together?". He looked at Howard accusingly.

"Well, to be honest, I think travelling for a year and then moving in together straight away could put a lot of strain on our relationship", said Howard, twiddling with his fork. "Especially with you starting at a new college, and me starting a new job, if I can even get a job. That's a lot to take on all at once".

"You know, Bryan's giving me a pretty big allowance", said Vince. "You don't even have to work if you don't want to. I'll have plenty of money for both of us".

Howard shook his head. "I don't want to live off your dad", he said. "You're a student, and Bryan's son – you need an allowance while you're at college. But if I can't support myself at my age, I'd be pretty disappointed in myself. And I think Bryan would be disappointed in me as well".

"Maybe it does make more sense to be in student accomodation", Vince said grudgingly. "And I can really stay with you every weekend?".

"Of course you can", said Howard. "It won't be like when you were at school. We can phone each other whenever we like. I'll be just around the corner – I can visit you, you can visit me. There won't be any curfew. We can go out together whenever we want. We won't have to sneak around. Everything will be much easier".

"That all sounds pretty good, actually", Vince said, looking happier.

"Just try it for a year", Howard suggested. "If you really don't like living in student accomodation, we can move in together once you properly start your fashion course at Saint Martins. How does that sound?".

"Okay", said Vince, eating another mouthful of fish and salad. "I guess we need to keep Dad happy, since he's helping me with college".

"That's right", smiled Howard. He put one hand under the table, and Vince held onto it, just as he had so many months ago. Everything had worked out then, and Vince felt sure everything would this time too. He felt safe when he and Howard held hands, and now they were doing so in public, and nobody was bothered.

"Do you want to look at the dessert menu?", Howard asked, and then Vince knew everything would definitely be alright.

*************************************************

They did have dessert. Vince asked for a chocolate and raspberry trifle that reminded him of hunting for wild summer fruit in the depths of the forest. Howard had a lemon cream, which he told Vince was like the ones he had eaten in Spain.

As Vince licked the last morsel of chocolate sponge from his spoon, Howard reached into the pocket of his jacket, made a throat-clearing noise, and looked up at Vince with sudden shyness.

"I got ... I thought you might like to have this", Howard said, placing a little velvet box on the table near Vince. "It's um ... well, a present. For finishing school and your exams".

Vince smiled as he opened the box, then lifted out a silver necklace with a clear stone pendant that shimmered with a milky blue sheen.

"Oh, wow, it's beautiful, Howard", said Vince, letting the candlelight play over the pendant.

"It's a moonstone", said Howard. "They're meant to be lucky for travelling, so I thought it would be good for your gap year".

"Thank you so much, Howard", Vince said, putting on the necklace, as Howard came around and helped him do up the clasp at the back.

"You look luminous wearing it", Howard said, and brushed his lips against Vince's cheek. "Did you want to stay for coffee?".

"Nah. How 'bout you take me back to yours, and we have coffee there?", Vince suggested with a grin.

***********************************************

Vince could hardly believe he was back in the van with Howard, just like before. Except it was even better now. Howard had always been more cheerful when driving with Vince, but now he seemed positively loose and laid-back.

Vince switched on the radio in the van, and began to sing along. Before, Howard would have told him to switch it off, it was a distraction to the driver and could cause an accident. Now he sang along too, tapping on the steering wheel as if playing drums or the slap bass, looking at Vince and laughing as if singing with Vince in the van was the most fun he'd ever had in his life.

_You had a temper like my jealousy_  
_Too hot, too greedy_  
_How could you leave me_  
_When I needed to possess you?_  
_I hated you, I loved you too_

Vince warbled in his sweet, angelic voice, making Kate Bush hand gestures and fluttering his eyelashes at Howard as he whipped his hair around. Howard sang along for the chorus in his soft baritone.

_Heathcliff, it's me, Cathy_  
_Come home, I'm so cold_  
_Let me in at your window_

"We sound great together", said Vince, fluffing his hair back into place. "When are we going to form that band together and find the new sound?".

"Yeah, we could be the Kate Bush Band", said Howard enthusiastically. "No, wait. We might get sued – Katie Bush".

"What about The Great Katie Bush?".

"The Great and Mighty Katie Bush?".

"What about just The Mighty Bush?".

"Yeah, fantastic", grinned Howard. "Only, it's a bit too much like the band Bush".

"Well, what about if we sort of drew the last word out, like Boosh? Think about it. Boo-oosh".

"The Mighty Boosh it is", agreed Howard. "We could do some busking in Europe on your gap year to get started".

"Yeah, and maybe someone will hear us in the street, and say, _Hey, I want you to play in my club tonight_ ", Vince said excitedly. "And at the club there'd be the head of a major record label, and he'd be so blown away that he'd sign us on the spot. And then we'd become huge, bigger than The Beatles!".

"Hey hey, you might be getting a bit ahead of yourself, little man", said Howard. "We haven't written any songs yet".

"We'll write them in the van while we're travelling", said Vince confidently. "At least – you'll have to write the music, and we'll both write the lyrics".

"Sounds like a plan", said Howard, still tapping his fingers quietly on the steering wheel as if eager to get started. "Um ... Vince?".

"Yeah?".

"You didn't really hate me for leaving, did you? Like in the song", Howard asked worriedly.

"I never hated you", Vince reassured him. "I didn't even hate Dad. I was angry, and miserable, and scared, but I promise I never hated you. Not for a second".

Howard slid his hand across the seat and drove one-handed, his fingers intertwined with Vince's.

****************************************************

It was different when they got to Howard's flat, too. Howard lifted Vince out of the van, then swung him around and kissed him, bubbling over with laughter the whole time. They walked upstairs together hand in hand, and Howard stopped on each landing to lean Vince against a wall and give him a snog. They weren't desperate, hungry snogs as if Howard couldn't wait to get Vince inside – more joyful, excited snogs, as if Howard was enjoying walking upstairs with Vince, and didn't mind how long it took.

They were still finishing up a snog as they reached the floor Howard's flat was on when one of Howard's neighbours opened his front door. A stout older man with a pork pie hat atop grey curls, wearing dark glasses and carrying a white cane, stood on the threshhold as if listening intently.

"Oh, Lester. Hello there", said Howard.

"Howard?", said the man in an American accent. "I was told you'd gone into foreign parts".

"Just to Leeds. Uh, Lester, this is Vince. Vince, this is my neighbour, Lester Corncrake. Knows a lot about jazz".

"Hi, Mr Corncrake", said Vince. "Sorry if we disturbed you".

"Why now, a pretty lady like you can disturb me whenever she likes", said Lester with creaking gallantry. "And yes, I can tell that you're pretty. You sound pretty, you smell pretty, you give off pretty vibrations".

"Vince and I are going to Europe for a while", said Howard, "but once we get back, I'll pop round and we'll listen to some Charles Mingus together, okay?".

"I'd like that, Howard", said Lester. "Enjoy your romantic vacation together, won't you?".

"We will", grinned Vince. "Nice meeting you, Mr Corncrake".

"A pleasure", said Lester. "I was just heading out to get a little fresh air before bedtime".

"Let me help you", said Howard, putting an arm out to guide his elderly neighbour with Boy Scoutish zeal. "The first stair's a bit tricky".

"Now, Howard, don't baby me", said Lester. "I've been walking down tricky stairs since before you were born, and I know it's thirteen steps to the left, four to the right, and then straight on".

He confidently swept his white cane down the hallway, and strode through some double doors at the opposite end with a touch of magnificence.

"That's an airing cupboard", Howard told Vince, who suppressed a giggle. "He always walks into it. I don't think he can tell his left hand from his right".

"Should we get him out?", asked Vince.

"No, he'll be fine", said Howard. "Let's nip into the flat before he finds his own way out".

A minute later, Howard was unlocking the door, and giving Vince another kiss against it. He told Vince to go through to the living room while he made coffee, and Vince took off his jacket and boots. He settled himself on the sofa, listening to the noise of the kettle, and Howard getting mugs and the coffee jar out of cupboards. The sofa still felt big and comfortable, but it didn't have Howard's smell on it any more, so didn't seem quite right. The flat didn't feel like Howard's any more with all his stuff gone. Vince wriggled around, trying to relax.

"So is Pete here?", asked Vince, as Howard came in with his own jacket and shoes gone, carrying two mugs of coffee. "Naboo said he moved in after you left".

"No, he's spending the week at his girlfriend's while I'm in London", replied Howard, setting the mugs down on the coffee table. "Nice of him to let me stay here".

"I thought the flat would smell of weed, but it doesn't", Vince said, sniffing the sofa to make sure.

"It's a non-smoking lease", Howard said, easing himself onto the sofa next to Vince. "I think Pete goes over to Naboo's when he wants a smoke".

Vince instictively cuddled up to Howard, who put his arm around him, and looked down with an expression that was both fond and proprietary.

"You know, Howard, you told me the first night I came over that you were all alone in the world. But you had nice parents, and Naboo and Bollo on the same street, and Lester on the same floor, and Horace and Jimmy in your band. You really had a lot of friends".

"I know. How lonely you feel doesn't have much to do with how many people there are in your life", Howard said, pulling Vince closer into his side.

"I wouldn't have understood that at the time, but I do now", Vince said. "Because after you went to Leeds, I had loads of friends, and went out all the time, but inside I was dying of loneliness".

"My poor baby", Howard said, kissing Vince's nose. "That's the loneliness of not having that one special person you want".

"But you felt like that even before you met me", Vince said thoughtfully.

"I think I started feeling like that the second I saw you, and knew what I was missing", said Howard. "Do you want to watch telly or anything?".

"Yeah, whatever", said Vince idly, as Howard picked up the remote and flicked through the channels, exclaiming with disappointment that they'd missed an interesting program on the future of robotics.

The next program was a comedy show based on current events that they half-watched while drinking their coffee and cuddling.

"I could never be on one of these shows", said Vince, when the program ended. "I don't know anything about politics. I wouldn't know what to say".

"It's not very likely you'll ever be asked", Howard teased.

"Hey get stuffed, I might one day", Vince protested. "Maybe they'll get sick of having clever people on and want someone cool instead".

"You don't really need to know about politics anyway", Howard reassured him. "They just want people who can think of funny things to say off the top of their heads. You'd be good at it".

"You'd be genius", said Vince. "You're clever and funny, and you'd understand everything they were talking about".

"Oh God, I'd be awful on a panel show", groaned Howard. "I mean, look at my face. It permanently looks either grumpy or confused. People would be thinking, _Who is this bad-tempered idiot bastard_?".

"That isn't what I think when I look at your face", murmured Vince, softly pressing his lips against Howard's.

The kiss deepened as his tongue slipped against Howard's bottom lip, and then into his warm mouth. Vince held Howard's hair tightly, pulling him in close for a passionate kiss, just as Howard was pulling Vince's arse towards his own groin, so that he could feel the friction of them moving together.

"Do you want ... um, shall we go into the bedroom?", suggested Howard, his voice sounding deeper and more northern as a betrayal of his level of desire.

"Yeah, okay", said Vince with mock-casualness, his hand already rubbing Howard's erection through his jeans.  

Howard grunted as he stood up, and lifted Vince into his arms, pulling him close to his own torso. He didn't stop kissing Vince the whole way to the bedroom, and lay him on the bed before sliding next to him, still kissing. Vince undid his tight leather trousers, tugging them down, and then kicking them onto the floor after wriggling out of them. Howard had already taken off his jeans by the time Vince had finished, and was lying in bed with an eager look on his face.

Vince straddled Howard as he leaned down to kiss him, his hair falling onto Howard's face while their tongues moved in unison. Howard bucked his hips towards Vince; Vince gave a low growl and ground his hips as he pressed down harder. Howard turned Vince over as he swapped their positions, so that Vince was now looking up at Howar'd face, flushed pink with excitement.

Howard kissed Vince's neck, down his throat, over his ear and jawline, softly kissing his skin as his hands found their way under Vince's thin shirt, following the trail that went from his navel to his groin, Howard's fingers teasing through the dark hair. Howard stripped off Vince's transparent shirt that had been driving him mad all night and began dusting sweet little kisses over Vince's chest, over his ribs, and down his stomach before changing direction and moving upwards.

Vince groaned, digging his fingers into the bed as he raised himself towards Howard's lips. His cock ached, and his pants already had a dot of moisture on them. He wound his fingers into Howard's hair and held him close as his boyfriend kissed, licked, and caressed Vince's torso, even kissing down his arms to place his lips against his wrists and hands, to the tips of each finger.

"I love you", Howard whispered, his mouth against Vince's skin.

"Howard, I love you too", Vince said with a little gasp, his stomach feeling hot and tense as he watched Howard strip himself naked before tugging Vince's pants off so they were both naked.

They settled into a slow rhythm, Howard kissing and caressing Vince all over while Vince twitched and whined, starting to beg Howard for something more. Howard cupped Vince's pointed face in his large, capable hands, his thumb lightly grazing cheekbones, while beneath him was the fast beating of Vince's heart.

"Anything you feel like, little man?", asked Howard with a tiny smile.

"I suppose a bumming's out of the question?", said Vince cheekily.

"Yes it is. You haven't even technically left school yet, and this is only our first proper date", said Howard, giving Vince a nipping kiss on his neck.

"Well, you did say that we'd work our way up to it", Vince reminded him. "Maybe just give me a little pre-bumming action?".

"Alright", said Howard, with a grin that had something wicked to it, something quite wolfish, that reminded Vince his boyfriend wasn't just bigger and stronger than him, but that he also had teeth.

There was something about that grin that gave Vince butterflies in his tummy, a little clench of excitement. Howard was so gentle with him, and (let us be frank) so easily wrapped around Vince's finger, that it was easy for Vince to forget that Howard could overpower him, could hold him down with one hand, could be, if he wanted to, rough with Vince. Vince wondered how much teasing would be needed to bring out that side of Howard.

But for now Howard was still gentle as he reached out to hold Vince's twitching cock, and took it into his mouth. Vince felt himself get harder as Howard sucked on him, but it was only when he started to moan with pleasure that Howard flipped him over and began moving his lips against Vince's crease, kissing it hungrily before beginning to lick it in long strokes that made Vince fall apart. It was more intimate than getting a blow job, and Vince was soon twisting and turning on the bed, unable to control his limbs.

Every time Howard flicked his tongue so that it actually entered Vince's arse, he keened with a sort of outraged pleasure, and wriggled as if he didn't know whether to fuck himself on Howard's mouth, or roll away, unable to cope with how it felt. He couldn't get away though – Howard was holding his hips too firmly, and was eating his arse like it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, as if he actually _needed_ to eat it. Vince could feel Howard's stubble rubbing against his arse cheeks as his tongue burrowed itself deeper and deeper inside. He was going to be left pink and marked from Howard's ministrations.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", Vince said. "Oh Christy, Howard. Oh fuck". He was saying incomprehensible things again.

Howard raised his head. "Are you ready to try a finger, Vince?".

"Mm. Yeah. Alright", moaned Vince.

Howard leaned over the bed and got a little tube out of the drawer in the bedside table. He rubbed lube onto his fingers, and then said, "Okay, I'm going to start with just one tip".

He gently inserted the tip of his index finger into Vince, and asked if he could keep going.

"Um. Yeah", said Vince, unsure of how he felt. This was ... nothing like anything he and Howard had ever done together. It felt ... tight, hot, as if there was no room for anything more. But at the same time, he _wanted_ more. He gave a frustrated little wriggle that Howard took as encouragement.

Howard pushed his finger further in, and began a gentle circling motion that made Vince gasp. Vince became very aware of everything he already knew about Howard's finger. The hardened callous on the tip from playing guitar, how broad and thick it was, the realisation that one phalanx had replaced another. Oh ... wow. That was ... Vince made a noise that was difficult to interpret.

"Am I hurting you?", Howard asked worriedly.

"No. It doesn't exactly hurt", Vince said in a muffled voice, his face pushed into the pillow. "It just feels ... it feels too much. Like your finger is too big, or something".

"Sweetheart, my dick is a lot bigger than my finger", Howard said, carefully removing his finger and giving Vince a gentle kiss on the bum. "It sounds like you're not quite ready for this yet. And you didn't even get to the good part".

"What about the good part?", Vince said, immediately rolling over and looking expectant.

"The good part that you'll have another day, if you want it", said Howard, lying down and beginning to stroke Vince's cock with lubed hands. At the same time, he kept kissing Vince on the neck while murmuring near his ear.

"We don't ever have to bum if you don't want, I love you being with you, and I love everything we do together", he said. "You're so beautiful, Vince. You're so perfect. I love you, darling".

"Oh fuck, that feels genius with lube on your hands", moaned Vince, arching his back. "Please don't stop ... oh yes, yes, yes".

Howard kissed Vince on the lips while continuing to wank him off. "Is that good, baby?", he asked.

"Fantastic", Vince groaned, precum dripping onto his stomach, his eyes blissfully closed. He was too turned on to kiss back.

The pleasure built and built, until Vince gave a delicious shudder, and climaxed. His whole body went floppy and boneless, and he turned to Howard to quickly press his lips against him.

"Can I marry your hand?", he said teasingly.

"You can marry both of them", Howard said with a smile.

"And there's still a good part to look forward to?", Vince said suggestively. "Tell me about it".

"Don't want to spoil the surprise", Howard said. He looked at Vince with an amused quirk of his mouth..

"Now it's your turn", Vince said, a hint of a giggle in his voice.

"It's okay. Sometimes it can just be for you", Howard said, sitting up and on the edge of the bed, as if getting ready to leave.

Before he had a chance to move, Vince was crouched on the floor between Howard's thighs, looking up at him with an innocent expression that made Howard feel as if his heart had skipped a beat. That one look from Vince was enough to make him start twitching. He leaned down to kiss his boyfriend, giving a little nibble to his lip as Vince began moving both his hands up and down Howard's cock. Once Vince was licking and kissing along Howard's stomach, Howard ran his fingers through his hair, already beginning to feel pleasantly helpless, as if he'd passed all control over to Vince.

Vince unconsciously licked his lips as he took in the sight of Howard's cock, then his tongue was licking the heavy red tip, swirling it in his mouth and tasting the sweet precum. Howard wasn't expecting him to do much more; he remembered their last time on Xooberon, and thought Vince would concentrate on the head of his cock. Tasting it, licking it, kissing it. Nothing that could hurt Vince.

That's why it came as a surprise when Vince took nearly the whole of Howard's cock in his mouth, gagging slightly at the size. Howard let out a gasp and grabbed onto the bed, his hips demanding to fuck Vince's mouth. Howard breathed deeply, and concentrated on keeping still, not wanting to force Vince into anything. Vince didn't seem as if he was being forced. He was making noises of delectation into Howard's skin, into the taste and smell of him.

Vince looked up into Howard's eyes, almost as if ready to give a cheeky grin, but instead he was gazing lovingly, still with that wide blue innocence that drove Howard to the edge. Vince hungrily sucked and slurped on Howard, his hands and tongue moving in unison, not forgetting to cup and nuzzle his balls as well. Howard wondered when Vince was going to stop to rest, and then realised he wasn't, in fact he was taking Howard deeper and deeper into his mouth until Howard felt himself at the back of Vince's throat, bottomed out.

"Sweet Brian Christ .... Vince, I'm going to ... oh _fuck_ , I'm sorry", Howard whimpered, unable to stop himself from fucking Vince's throat, no matter how tightly he held onto the bed.

The pleasure spread his body like a wave, his cock gave a final triumphant twitch inside Vince's mouth, flooding it with hot, salty liquid. Howard groaned as Vince kept sucking him through his orgasm, his tongue busy until he swallowed Howard's load in one go, looking extremely proud of himself. Vince stood up, wiping the back of his hand on his mouth. He was suddenly shaky from being crouched down so long, and Howard helped him sit down next to him, putting an arm around him.

"Where did you learn to do that?", Howard asked, red-faced and breathing heavily.

"Practiced", said Vince smugly.

"On what?".

"Bananas", giggled Vince. "You know, the really big ones. I've been buying a lot of huge bananas lately".

"You're joking".

"Courgettes are good too", Vince said thoughtfully. "Harder to explain why you're taking them to your room, though. I had to sneak them into the kitchen later, and then they wondered why there was always an extra courgette".

************************************************************

After their shower, Howard and Vince snuggled into bed together, Howard in his pyjamas and Vince wearing an old shirt of Howard's that was comfortingly loose and baggy on his small frame.

"I really missed you", Howard said, brushing his lips against Vince's cheek.

"I missed you more", said Vince, curling into Howard and clinging to him as if he was never going to let go.

"It's not a competition", said Howard. He kissed Vince's nose.

"But if it was, I would definitely win", said Vince. "My life was a mess without you".

"Rubbish. You finished school, did your exams, and became a leading fashion icon in the nightclubs of Camden", said Howard.

"That was my outside life. My inside life was a mess", insisted Vince. "Besides, you got a job and wrote a novel".

"I had constant nightmares, cried all the time, and lost ten pounds".

"It's not a competition", Vince said with a smile, leaning over to kiss Howard's brow.

"We'll never have to miss each other like that again", said Howard. "We might have to be apart, circumstances might separate us, but we'll never be cut off from each other like that again, not able to talk, or write, or know how the other one is. That's the only time".

"Promise?".

"I promise".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to fit all the conflicting stories of Vince's education from the show into the story; given that we are told very little about his early life, everything seemed important. So in S1 Vince is said to have done vocational certificates in both Art and Hairdressing, and improbably, he manages to do both these things while also doing normal schoolwork (just as in the show, he does them while working at the zoo). He doesn't drop out of O Levels, but doesn't do very well as he's taken on so much at the same time, and goes to art school rather than continue his academic career at boarding school. In S2, we learn that Vince and Howard went to the same college together after their gap year – I was able to send them on a gap year together easily enough, and if Vince had taken the opportunity to go to Buckinghamshire College, as Noel did, Howard indicated that he would have accompanied him and probably studied there himself. In S3, we are told Vince studied Fashion at Saint Martins College, so I made that his ultimate educational goal. (Its full name was Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design, now Central Saint Martins and part of the University of the Arts London; currently rated in the Top 5 best places to study fashion globally).
> 
> The foundation courses for Central Saint Martins are done at the former Byam Shaw School of Art in Archway, part of CSM. It's about 10 minutes drive from central Islington, hence Vince says it's "not far from here". It's about 15 minutes drive from Dalston, but quite a hike on public transport. Maybe Vince imagines Howard will drive him to college every morning in heavy peak hour traffic. It's a sign he hasn't really thought through the logistics of studying while living with Howard, who presumably will have a job to get to in the mornings himself. 
> 
> The dessert Howard has is a crema Catalana, the forerunner to and possible inspiration for crème brûlée, although it's much lighter and more tart than the French dessert. 
> 
> Moonstone is another birthstone for Gemini, and as well as being a lucky stone for travellers, it is meant to be a very romantic gemstone. To give someone a moonstone on the full moon is a sign of a deep emotional bond, and if you check the calendar, the date in this chapter is Friday 28th June, three days before the full moon. Moonstone is also very sensual, so the gem is symbolic of the physical side of Howard and Vince's relationship. It is suggested that lovers might give each other moonstone as a gift after quarrelling to renew their relationship, and Howard and Vince do seem to get over their little irritations with each other after Vince wears the moonstone. The blue-toned moonstones are the best quality, and Howard probably paid quite a bit for the necklace. Coupled with this fancy night out, he's probably spending part of his book advance on Vince, or else he's been thriftily saving up his weekly wages for six months.
> 
> My head canon is that Howard's neighbour Lester Corncrake was originally one of his clients from the escort service run by Bob Fossil. Howard said his clientele tended to be old and/or have trouble meeting people, which would fit Lester. I think Lester would have responded to one of Bob Fossil's flyers and requested Howard come over and offer him companionship, probably to listen to jazz records. After a short while, Howard would have realised he quite enjoyed Lester's company and continued seeing him as a friend, no longer asking for payment. 
> 
> The show Howard and Vince watch is "Friday Night Armstice", a satirical comedy show looking back at the current events of that week, with comedians as studio guests (a bit like "The Last Leg"). It aired on BBC2 at 10 pm, so they're home farly early from their date, probably because Howard had to pick Vince up before the boarding house's early dinner. The science show they missed was "Future Fantastic", at 7.30 pm on BBC1, hosted by Gillian Anderson. I gave Howard Julian's interest in AI and robots.


	30. Summer's Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince finishes school, and he's all grown up ... but is he really grown up? And is an argument between Howard and Vince a sign of trouble in paradise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer's here and the time is right for fighting.
> 
> Street Fighting Man – Oasis (Rolling Stones cover)
> 
> Noel and I would sometimes ... we would have ... if we ever had, sort of, arguments, we’d quite quickly make up and there’d quite often be tears. ~ Julian Barratt

On the day of Vince's Prize Day ceremony, Howard picked his mum and dad up from King's Cross in the van when they got off the train from Leeds, Mary looking less than enthused at this mode of transport.

"What on earth have you done with the van, Howard?", Mary demanded, looking aghast.

"Vince decorated it for me. I mean for us, for our trip", said Howard.

Howard's green van had been enthusiastically spray-painted by Vince, who argued that nobody would believe they were really on a fun gap year tour of Europe and Yorkshire unless the van had some cool pictures on it. It was mostly odd faces in gimp masks, their band name The Mighty Boosh, and some squiggly bits that Vince couldn't quite explain to Howard's satisfaction.

Mary squeezed in between her son and her husband on the front seat.

"You've seen Vince, then?", she asked.

"Oh yes. I took him out to dinner the night I arrived, and gave him a present for finishing school. And then we ... hung out at the flat for a while", said Howard, rubbing his nose and blushing. "We've seen each other every day this week".

"Has Vince heard back from any colleges?", asked Bill.

"Yes. He got an unconditional acceptance from Buckinghamshire, and Saint Martins offered him a place as long as he does a foundation course with them", replied Howard. "He's said yes to Saint Martins, because he wants to become a fashion designer".

"And are you both packed and ready to go?", asked Mary.

"I am. Vince is ... not that great at packing".

"Well, it's up to you to help him", Mary lectured.

"Yes, Howard – if you're going to have a very young boyfriend, then it's your job to sort him out", added Bill. "He doesn't have a mum or dad, so you have to take care of him".

Howard sighed. He could already tell that anything Vince ever did wrong would be eternally blamed on him by his parents.

"Vince does have a dad", Howard informed them. "His foster-father adopted him once he turned eighteen".

"No mother at all", said Mary tragically. "The poor _lamb_ ".

******************************************************************

When they arrived at Clapton Art College, they followed the crowds of people who were going to the assembly hall for the prize giving. There were paintings by students on the walls, and Howard stopped at one that he recognised as Vince's style. It showed a beautiful blonde princess looking out the window of a stone tower; the princess closely resembled Vince. Far below was a handsome prince with messy brown hair and a moustache, riding a white horse.

The viewer could see the prince was on his way to rescue the princess, using his sword to slash through the thorny bushes around the base of her tower, but the princess could not see him yet. The card on the wall next to it said the painting was called  _I_   _Know He Will Come For Me One Day_ , by Vince Noir, and had been awarded third place at the college's spring art show.

Howard realised Vince must have painted it when they were apart, and got a lump in his throat at the sadness and longing on the face of the princess, and at the faith Vince had shown by the painting's title. He felt unworthy of being seen as a brave prince come to rescue Vince and solve all his problems, and hoped Vince would come to see him more realistically. Funnily enough, he never thought it was unrealistic for Vince to be depicted as a beautiful princess.

"Like it?", said a voice in his ear, and Howard turned around to see Vince.

"Love it, but not nearly as much as I do the artist", said Howard, brushing his lips against Vince's temple. "Congratulations on the prize".

"Thanks, Howard", said Vince. "Where's your mum and dad?".

"Over here", said Howard, taking Vince by the hand and leading him to them, calling out to Mary and Bill to get their attention. They both smiled and waved at Vince.

"How lovely to meet you at last, Vince", said Mary, kissing him on the cheek, while Bill hugged him around the shoulders and said Howard had told them all about him.

"Nice to meet you both, and thanks for the letter you wrote me", said Vince. "That's such an amazing dress you've got on, Mrs Moon".

"Thank you dear, but it's _Mary_ ", she replied. "And you look very nice too. What a lovely silver necklace".

"Howard gave it to me", said Vince, fingering the pendant. "It's a moonstone".

Ms Kittson came over to congratulate Vince on completing his A Levels, then suddenly noticed Howard standing off to the side.

"Oh, Mr Postov!", she said in surprise. "I'm so pleased you came to Vince's Prize Day. I'm sorry about before, it's school rules, you know. Vince, your Uncle Boris must be so proud of you".

Vince gave a giggle that turned into a cough, then Ms Kittson said she had to go, and gave a vague smile and wave to Mary and Bill.

"What was that woman going on about?", demanded Mary. "Why did she call you Boris?".

"She's mad", said Howard firmly. "Has a fixation. Imagines everyone is called Uncle Boris. If you'd introduced yourself, she would have thought you were Uncle Boris as well".

"But that's terribly eccentric of her", argued Mary. "Surely they shouldn't have mad people teaching here?".

"Yes, she's an eccentric ... genius", Howard said hurriedly. "Quite, quite brilliant, apart from thinking everyone is called Uncle Boris".

"Well, I think they could find a teacher just as good who didn't ...", began Mary hotly, when she was interrupted.

"Don't stare, anybody", whispered Bill, "but I've just seen Bryan Ferry. He must be here to give away prizes or something".

"Really? Where?", said Mary, turning around.

"No, it's okay, it's just my dad", said Vince, who went over to Bryan and received a greeting and a careful hug.

"You must be Howard's parents", said Bryan with one of his trademark enigmatic smiles. "Enchanted to meet you both". He kissed Mary's hand, and shook Bill's.

"This is ... such a surprise, Mr Ferry", said Mary. "We had no idea ....".

"Please, just call me Bryan", said Bryan Ferry. "Do not think of me as a world famous pop singer and style icon multimillionaire sex symbol with dozens of hit records, but only as Vince's father".

Vince said he had to go and sit with his class, but said goodbye to everyone, and gave Howard a squeeze of his hand. Mary and Bill sat on one side of Bryan, and Howard sat on the other.

"It is good to see you again, Howard", said Bryan. "Vince seems much happier and more relaxed since you returned".

"Yes, Howard seems much more relaxed now, too", Bill said. "I suppose it's because of Vince".

"Howard is usually very tense", explained Mary. "It's nice seeing him more ... relaxed".

"Really? How interesting", said Bryan, shooting a look at Howard. "Vince loved the gardenias you sent him for completing his A Levels. They are flowers with a very rich scent. Rather sensual, in fact".

"Quite intoxicating", agreed Mary. "They're almost too much, but I had no idea you were such a romantic, Howard! Sending flowers and buying jewellery – you don't get it from your father".

"I was very romantic when we were courting", protested Bill. "Very spontaneous. I'd come past the teacher's training college on my Vespa, and just whisk you away unexpectedly. I got more spontaneous than that, too".

"I think we've heard enough now, thank you", said Mary repressively, although unable to stop herself from giving a little smirk very much like her son's. "Are you worried about Vince's A Levels at all, Bryan?".

"Not in the least", said Bryan smoothly. "I was surprised he even did A Levels, and it seemed unnecessary to me as he had already been accepted by Saint Martins".

"Oh, but good A Level results will give him many more options in the future", said Mary earnestly, rather shocked by Bryan's attitude. "I mean, suppose he wanted to transfer to university later?".

"We were a bit disappointed by some of Howard's results", said Bill. "For someone whose mother is a Maths teacher, you could have got higher there, Howard".

"My A Levels were fine", said Howard. "And I'm twenty-eight, so a bit late to be worrying about them now".

"We hoped that Howard would do well at university, but he dropped out to become a zookeeper", said Mary, as if confessing some terrible family secret.

"A zookeeper? How frightful", said Bryan. "You must have been utterly devastated".

Howard began feeling less relaxed, and was very grateful when the Prize Day speeches began so that everyone could shut up about what a massive disappointment he was.

*****************************************************************

Howard had been hopeful that Prize Day at an art college would be more entertaining than elsewhere, but in fact it was just as boring as that at his own school. He kept listening for Vince's name, and was rewarded at last when Vince received the prize for Fashion Design, coming up on stage with a big smile to accept the cheque for fifty euros.

The college then showed a short film that Leroy had done of Vince's fashion show – Leroy had won the prize for Media Studies, and was, to everyone's astonishment including his own, to study at the London Film School next year. Vince's fashion show had been called _Girls & Boys_, and comprised of two collections – one called Jazz, which was all corduroy, tweed and Hawaiian prints, and the other called Glam, which was colourful, glittery, and fantastical.

The twist was that it was the female models wearing Jazz, and the males wearing Glam. A shot showed a beautiful girl in a tweed jacket making her way down the catwalk, alongside an even more beautiful boy in a red leather jumpsuit covered in rhinestones, wearing high heeled boots.

"Would you say that your fashion show is designed to defy gender expectations and blur the boundaries between the male/female dichotomy, Vince?", asked Leroy, in serious interviewer mode.

"Hey wow, that sounds well brainy", laughed Vince, turning away from where he'd been tacking a model's costume back in place. "I'm hiring you as my PR, Leroy".

"No, you twat", Leroy hissed at him, "I'm making a film about you".

"Get stuffed Leroy, you berk", Vince countered. "I was having a laugh, alright? Um, what he said, about the gender boundary, and how it expects a dichotomy, and that".

The audience laughed in appreciation of what they assumed to be scripted dialogue, and Howard thought how clever Vince had been in not allowing himself to be pinned down on any position. He was far too slippery and fluid for that, and Howard went off into a daydream about Vince's slippery fluids, and really last night ...

He had to stop having saucy daydreamy fantasies about Vince because it was time for the class to receive their diplomas, and in the middle it was "Noir, Vince", going up on stage with a huge grin.

"Congratulations, Vince", said the art school principal, shaking Vince's hand.

"Yeah genius. Cheers mate", said Vince with a wide smile, enthusiastically shaking back before waving to the audience and blowing Howard a kiss.

Howard shook his head fondly and gave a secret smirk into his moustache. That was his little exhibitionist – two-thirds showing off to the crowd, one-third an affectionate gesture that belonged just to Howard, nobody else.

*********************************************************************

Everyone congratulated Vince when he came over to them after saying an affectionate farewell to Leroy. Mary took photos of Vince with Bryan and Vince with Howard and Vince with both Howard and Bryan, before Howard wrested the camera away from her and took ones of Vince with Mary and Bill, and then with the senior Moons and Bryan all together.

"Thank you for inviting my little muddlehead for the summer", said Bryan to Mary and Bill.

"It's our absolute pleasure, Bryan", replied Mary, "and I think Vince has quite a good head on his shoulders. A diploma, a prize, _and_ accepted into a top fashion school. Such a competitive field, too".

"We think of Vince as part of our family", added Bill, "and we hope you think of Howard as part of yours".

"Just as long as Howard remembers to keep all his promises", said Bryan, with a sharp glint in his blue eyes at Howard which may have contained either amusement or a warning.

"Well, we'd better be making tracks", announced Bill. "We've got a long train journey back to Leeds. Howard, will you and Vince be coming in the van?".

"Yes, we just have to do Vince's packing", said Howard.

"I do not envy you that", said Bryan with the smug look of someone who never had to pack for Vince ever again. "Mary and Bill, may I offer you a lift to the station?".

"That would be terribly kind of you, Bryan", beamed Mary, possibly thinking she would be travelling in a limousine, and not a safari-patterned Landrover.

"Howard, take your time driving back", counselled Bill. "If you're home before we are, don't pick us up from the station – we'll get a taxi. And don't cook us dinner. We'll get something to eat on the way".

"That's right", agreed Mary. "It's the first day of your honeymoon, so just relax and enjoy it together".

"Mum, we're on a gap year, not our honeymoon", said Howard in embarrassment.

"Well, I call a long romantic holiday in Europe together a honeymoon", said Mary.

Howard hugged his parents goodbye, his mother whispering plaintively that he should have said they were meeting Bryan Ferry; she hadn't even got her hair done.

"You would never have believed me", said Howard, giving her a kiss.

After Vince had said goodbye to Bryan, his head snuggled into his shoulder so that Bryan had to completely unwrinkle his tuxedo jacket, Howard held out his hand to say goodbye to Vince's father.

"Um, goodbye Bryan, and thanks for everything. I'll take good care of Vince", he said awkwardly.

Bryan placed his mouth against Howard's ear as he pushed him into the wall.

"If you ever hurt him, I will hunt you down like a vermin fox", he muttered. "I mean it. One sad phone call, one angry letter from him, and you will be gone. Are we clear?".

Howard nodded, his face blanched.

"I suppose the traffic is terrible in London on a Friday", said Bill to Bryan as he turned around. "London wasn't this bad thirty years ago, I can tell you".

"Can we give you anything towards petrol, Bryan?", asked Mary, fumbling in her handbag.

"Do not pay the Ferry Man, Mary", smiled Bryan. "My friend Chris De Burgh was very clear on that one".

***********************************************************************

Howard was getting increasingly stressed. Vince hadn't done any packing at all, and was now trying to take everything in his room with him to Yorkshire.

"Couldn't Bryan have taken some of this with him?", asked Howard in frustration. "And can't any of it be thrown out? I mean, posters and pictures cut out from magazines. Bin them, Vince".

Vince struggled with a suitcase filled with clothes, Howard unpacking it and doing it properly before forcing it shut and locking it.

"You can't take all this around Europe, and you can't dump it at my parents' either", said Howard crossly. "You're going to have to make some tough decisions, Vince".

Vince suggested they throw some out, then take the rest to Yorkshire, where he would have most of it sent to Bryan. Howard lectured him on how the extra weight would put a strain on the van, as well as using up more fuel, and they had to hurry so as to be in Leeds before dark.

"And traffic is going to be a nightmare", he added, before realising he'd turned into his father, and shut up.

At last all the luggage was packed into the van, and Vince had emptied his wardrobe, stripped his bed, and looked under it for any lost socks or other forgotten item. Howard lifted Vince into the passenger side, and took his place in the driver's seat. He already felt exhausted before he started driving. Perhaps this is why, when they had finally left the suburbs of London behind, Howard said:

"You know Vince, it would be really handy if you could get your licence over the summer. I could teach you, and then we could share the driving around Europe".

"Isn't driving around Europe a bit ... advanced for someone who's only just got their licence?", asked Vince warily.

"Yes, but you'd have me with you the whole time", said Howard. "By the time we got back, you'd be able to cope with any driving conditions".

"Howard, I should probably tell you", said Vince, "Bryan's already tried to teach me to drive loads of times".

"What do you mean?".

"Well, most kids who grow up in the country start driving when they're about ten, don't they? Private roads and that. Except ... I could never get everything co-ordinated, and I always ended up crashing".

"Every time?".

"Yeah. We used to have a VW like this one, and I destroyed that. And I crashed the Honda, and the Jeep. After Bryan bought the Landrover, he said that was enough".

"So basically you're telling me you can't drive, and you never will?", said Howard.

"Yeah".

"That's okay, Vince", said Howard, quickly recovering from this blow. "Navigation is a very important job. I'll need you beside me, reading the map. Think of yourself as my co-pilot".

"Yeah, about that ... um, I get carsick if I have to read a map, Howard", confessed Vince.

"You showed me the way when we went to the forest", Howard pointed out.

"Because I already knew where to go", said Vince. "And I thought a Raspberry Bootlace was the road we were on".

"So I'm going to be doing all the driving and all the navigating", said Howard, sounding displeased.

"We could get a GPS", suggested Vince.

"I suppose we'll have to", said Howard grumpily.

There was a silence between them that felt long and not very friendly, which Vince ventured to break.

"So, what's the first thing we're going to do together in Leeds?", he asked.

"Oh well, I have to work, Vince, so we'll just be spending weekends and evenings together, really".

"You're joking, right?", said Vince. "What am I meant to do all day – hang out with your mum and dad?".

"You could take a bus into town and see me at the shop whenever you like. And we can have lunch together each day. And as I said, I'd be free every evening and weekend", said Howard.

"I can't believe you'd ask me to spend the summer of my gap year in Leeds with you, then tell me it's so we can spend all our time hanging around some manky old shop together!", said Vince angrily.

"Going to Europe costs money, Vince", said Howard patiently. "If I work for the whole summer, it means I'll be able to save up a lot more for our trip. I still have to give Mum and Dad money each week towards food and bills, and with you there, I need to give them a bit extra".

"But Howard ... Bryan gave me twenty thousand euros for the trip", protested Vince. "You don't have to keep working and saving for us, and I can give your parents money if you want".

"You should take those twenty thousand euros and put them in a long term saving account", said Howard. "Your gap year isn't meant to be luxurious. It's part of the experience that you stay in hostels and make your own meals. I can show you how to travel cheaply. Buy fresh food at markets and cook them over a campfire, and stay at free campsites".

"How about we keep the money from Bryan for emergencies?", suggested Vince. "And maybe sometimes we could stay somewhere a bit nicer, or get our hair done properly?".

"At least save half of it", begged Howard. "Ten thousand euros is more than enough for emergencies and the occasional treat. We're both strong, healthy young people who are used to roughing it. We don't need fancy hotels or posh restaurants. And most of the best things in Europe are either cheap or free".

"Like what?".

"Hiking, camping, going to the beach. Museums, churches, and art galleries. History, scenery".

"Well, I want to do some of those things", said Vince, "but Howard, I'm eighteen and on my gap year! I want to go to festivals and nightclubs and beach parties, the way you did when you were eighteen and on your gap year".

"I only did those things to meet guys", Howard informed him. "I'm with you now – what's the point?".

"To have fun!", said Vince urgently. "I want to dance all night and then watch the sun rise before falling asleep on a beach. And I need to check out all the latest fashions, and shop for clothes and make-up, and reinvent my image, and go to beauty salons. Looking good is really important to me, Howard".

"But I think you'd look beautiful in shorts and a tee-shirt, with no make-up and your hair in a mess", said a baffled Howard.

"No, you wouldn't", said Vince impatiently. "You'd soon get bored of me if I didn't keep myself looking nice. That's what blokes are like. You said you loved the way I made myself pretty".

"Only because that's _you_ , Vince", said Howard, sounding hurt. "I'd love you just as much with sun bleached hair and salt on your skin, wearing nothing but a bathing suit all day".

"That's sweet, but you're wrong", insisted Vince. "And I want to have a fun gap year like other teenagers – not looking at old cathedrals and stuff as if I was fifty years old".

"You're an adult, now, Vince", said Howard coldly; the crack about being like a fifty year old had stung. "It's time you gave up acting like an idiot child who doesn't understand how life works. You can't skip around being the sunshine kid who thinks everything is genius forever. It will get old really fast, and it won't be cute for much longer".

Vince gave Howard one betrayed look out of enormous blue eyes filled with tears, and then turned his face away. He curled up with his back to Howard, and he was thin and flexible enough that he was able to curl up until he looked absolutely tiny, and very fragile. Howard could see Vince's shoulders shaking, and it made his own eyes wet so that the road in front of him was blurred and indistinct. He wiped them, wondering how things had gone so wrong, so quickly.

Howard suddenly turned off the main road and began driving in a direction which the non-navigating Vince was unable to give name to.

"Where are we going?", asked Vince in surprise, wiping his face.

"To get ice cream", said Howard.

"But you said we had to hurry to get to Leeds before dark!", said Vince. "And what about the nightmare traffic and all the weight in the van?".

"I don't have to be in Leeds until Monday for work", said Howard. "We can take all weekend to get to Leeds if we want. You know, it's not the destination that's important, Vince – it's the journey we take to get there".

"That doesn't sound very responsible", said Vince. "Where will we sleep at night?".

"There's inns and hotels all over the place", said Howard carelessly. "Or we can sleep in the van, it doesn't matter".

Fifteen minutes later they were sitting on a willow-shaded footbridge in a village that overlooked a sleepy green river, with ice cream cones they had bought from a little shop which sold everything.

"Why are we doing this?", asked Vince, as he licked his ice cream with a pink tongue.

"Because you're eighteen and this is your gap year, and we should be doing what you want, and having fun", said Howard. He watched Vince eating his ice cream, and allowed himself to enjoy it. He felt very warm.

"What just happened back there?", Vince wondered.

"We had an argument, Vince. Couples do that sometimes. We'll probably fight in Europe all the time, because we'll be tired and hungry and confused, but we'll get over it. And, er – we shouldn't involve other people. I mean, don't go running to Bryan every time we have a little tiff".

"I thought you were going to dump me and order me to get out of the van and make my own way home", said Vince. "I was so scared, Howard".

"That will never happen, little man", Howard promised, putting his arm around Vince. "It's you and me all the way, Vince".

He gave Vince a cautious kiss on the cheek.

"I'm sorry, Vince", Howard went on. "From now on, you're in charge. It's your gap year, and you can decide what we do and where we go. Consider me just your humble chauffeur, navigator, tour guide, chef, financial consultant, campsite administrator, concierge, pack horse, and personal assistant".

"Oh, come on Howard", said Vince, finishing his ice cream. "You know we'd be lost and broke in two days with me in charge. I need you to tell me what to do. I'm just an idiot child and a sunshine kid, remember?".

"I was a complete arse for saying that", said Howard ruefully. "I want you stay a child forever, and still be the sunshine kid when you're forty. It will never get old, and it will always be cute".

"Well, how about we're both in charge, and we both make decisions? I mean, what would you like to do right now?", asked Vince flirtatiously, running his hand lightly down Howard's arm.

In answer, Howard took Vince's face gently between his hands, and pressed his lips against Vince's. Their tongues were still cold from the ice cream, which made Vince shiver deliciously. For the hundredth time, Howard wondered why Vince always tasted like heaven.

"And what do you want to do?", asked Howard, pulling away slightly so he could gaze into Vince's eyes.

" _This_ ", said Vince firmly, as he suddenly pulled Howard towards himself and then rolled both of them off the bridge into the river.

"You bitch", said Howard with a crooked grin, and proceeded to try to hold Vince under the water until he squealed.

They wrestled and played in the river until Vince shrieked that something had his ankle, and they both swam to the shore. Howard lay panting on the grassy riverbank, wondering why he was covered in mud and duckweed, while Vince sat demurely next to him, looking much the same as usual except for being wet.

"Waterproof mascara and good hairspray", said Vince promptly, when Howard asked, but Howard thought there must be more to it than that. He decided to leave it as a mystery. That was more romantic, and much more exciting.

"It's my turn to decide what we do next", announced Howard, tenderly pulling a wet strand of hair out of Vince's eyes.

"We should decide everything together, not take turns", objected Vince. "We're a team, remember?".

"Okay, team partner", said Howard, "do you feel like getting out of these wet clothes?".

"What, right here?", said Vince, looking askance. "What will the villagers think?".

"No, you little titbox. I mean, shall we drive to the nearest town and get a hotel room for the night, and we can have a shower and get changed?".

"Okay. What's the nearest town?".

"Huntingdon", said Howard.

"That sounds like a weird place to spend the first night of your honeymoon", said Vince dubiously.

"We're not on our honeymoon".

"Your mum said we were".

"I suppose it's a bit unusual to only go about seventy miles before stopping for the night", said Howard, "but I'm tired and soaking wet, Vince. I can't keep going the way you can. You can't expect me to dance all night every night, or drive for hours at a stretch. Not all the time, anyway".

"Okay Howard, we'll stop so you can have a rest", said Vince, cuddling up to Howard without regard for how wet either of them were. "And are you going to keep working in Leeds?".

"How about I hand in my notice and work for the rest of the month?", Howard suggested after a moment's thought. "If you can put up with me working until the end of July, then I'll be free all August".

"Thanks, Howard", said Vince, kissing him softly on the mouth, and climbing into his lap as if he was a pansexual merman. "So do you love me?".

"So, so much little man", said Howard tenderly, his hands cupping Vince's arse.

"Good, because I need your love a lot", said Vince. "More than anything in the world, Howard".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gardenias are another flower for a secret or hidden love affair, and they are traditionally given as a good luck present. To send someone gardenias is to say: "You are lovely". They symbolise hope for a new start in life, and fresh beginnings. I could have had Howard send them for Vince's birthday, but can you imagine a room filled with dozens of bouquets of gardenias? The scent would be overpowering.
> 
> Leroy does a short documentary on Vince's fashion show because Olly Ralfe made "Journey of the Childmen" for the "Future Sailors" tour. I was never sure where Leroy was actually going in life, so I sent him to film school.
> 
> Have you heard the superstition that if you have a little argument on your honeymoon, your marriage will be happy? I know they aren't really on their honeymoon, but Vince thinks they are ... 
> 
> The village Howard and Vince stop in is real, inasmuch as I can remember stopping in a Cambridgeshire village exactly like this to have ice cream on the footbridge, but where it was and what it was called I have no idea. In the story, I seem to have put it somewhere around where Holywell is because that was the most logical location in terms of the narrative, but it was probably somewhere completely different to that. Anyone who can identify this village, please write in!
> 
> The story is basically over now. Vince has left school, been accepted into fashion college, and Howard is awaiting the publication of his first novel. The two of them are heading off on their gap year travels together, very much in love, but with their own relationship issues to work out, like all couples. It's a happy ending for them, and not completely unrealistic. You could easily stop reading now, and maybe you should. I could have stopped writing, and almost definitely should have. However, I have added two further chapters that are time skips into their future, which you can think of as my head canons, if you want. They are barely even written as story, more like updates. So ... more is coming, but you don't have to read any of it.


	31. Fully Grown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick time skip just over two years into the future, to see what Vince and Howard are up to, and how their relationship is going now they're past the honeymoon period.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown?
> 
> Disco 2000 – Pulp 
> 
> Noel and I have only ever had two fights. One was about laundry. ~ Julian Barratt

**October 2 1998**

Howard went upstairs to his flat, having finished another day's work at the Nabootique. He thought it was very lucky that when he got back from travelling around Europe the previous year, Naboo had just opened a second hand shop and asked him to manage it.

At the same time, the flat next door to Naboo and Bollo had become available, and Howard had just enough money left for the deposit. Its rent was cheaper than his previous flat, it had an extra bedroom, and he didn't have Fossil as his landlord. That helped make up for the fact it was old and shabby, rather cramped, and full of tiny inconveniences. Howard remembered that Vince once said that these flats were like something out of a fairy tale, and gave a sigh.

Howard opened the mail which had been left on the mat, beginning with a large envelope from his agent, Eleanor. His novel had come out not long ago, and she had sent him his latest reviews, with the best bits highlighted.

 _"The Forest Boy" is that rare find – a children's book written for adults_ , said _The Guardian_ enthusiastically. _Noel is an enchanting character, and his journey towards manhood is one which would break our hearts, did it not also fill them with the purest joy._ _The Times_ was less impressed. _A magic realist pastiche of "The Jungle Book", with lyrical passages made wearisome by ponderous pretension._ The upbeat Eleanor had highlighted the word _lyrical_.

 _The Telegraph_ had mixed feelings: _An immensely skilful fantasy with moments of sly comedy_ , it said, but also, _The artifice of this charmingly surreal world becomes grating after a while, and at times is almost twee_. The one in _Reader's World_ was so generic that Howard wondered if they'd actually read his book: _Mr Moon's debut novel is competently written with an interesting plot, and very attractively presented. No doubt it will prove a popular choice during the upcoming gift-buying season._

Eleanor assured him that bad reviews could still bring new readers; she thought he had a chance of the Whitbread, and hopeful that someone might even buy the film rights. Vince said that Eleanor fancied Howard, but Howard thought she was just the sort of woman who liked flirting with gay men. Or maybe it was because she was American – they were affectionate by nature and prone to exaggeration, he thought vaguely.

Howard put his mail down on the kitchen bench. Of course an author is always interested in his reviews, but he was working on a new novel now, and the first one seemed like a relic from his distant past, although only recently published. Recalling how his father had wanted him to write a book about jazz, he had embarked on a quirky mystery novel with a detective of philosophical bent investigating a series of bizarre crimes in the jazz underworld, each one providing a clue to a far grander conspiracy. If _The Forest Boy_ had been a love letter to Vince, the second novel would be a gift for Bill.

The other piece of mail was from The Hackney Gay and Lesbian Legal Advice Centre, reminding him of the date and time of the next meeting. A year ago, settled into his new job and flat, and anxiously awaiting the publication of his novel, he had begun volunteering at the centre. After he let people know he wanted to help make the age of consent equal, Tim suggested he join a gay rights committee, of which he was now a member, and preparing to make a submission to a parliamentary subcommittee.

Vince couldn't believe he would do anything so tedious, and said he was an interfering berk, but Howard said if nobody interfered, nothing would ever change. Vince also believed that Tim fancied Howard, but Howard had come to realise that Vince had a jealous streak, even when it came to people who were only friends, like Tim (Vince was stubborn about insisting Howard had an oblivious streak, and continued to eye the good-looking, clever Tim with distrust).

********************************************************

Howard picked up a framed photo on the bookcase of he and Vince out to dinner with Mary and Bill – his parents had taken them to the best restaurant in Leeds to celebrate Vince passing his A Levels. When the letter had come in August, Vince was happy with his results. He had A* for both Fine Art and Textiles, and an A in English, thanks to Lucy's relentless drilling. Vince had a B in Maths – Howard was annoyed that Mary and Bill made more of a fuss about this than the A Howard had received in Maths, when his parents had been hoping for an A*.

Vince had a good summer in Yorkshire, especially once Howard had quit work at the record store. They went to the seaside with Mary and Bill, and camped on the moors with them, visiting the Bronte Museum in Haworth and hiking for miles every day. But mostly Vince and Howard had been alone together, going on picnics, out to dinner, the cinema, nightclubs, The Leeds Festival, Party in the Park, a concert at the Town and Country, and more shopping than Howard had thought humanly possible. All the clothing that Vince had packed in London was gradually replaced by an entirely new wardrobe to take to Europe.

Vince had bummed Howard for the first time in Howard's childhood bedroom, on an evening when Mary and Bill were out yet again, pursuing one of their mysterious social activities. Howard had got himself ready, then pulled Vince on top while wrapping his legs around him, guiding him with his hand. Vince had used too much lube, and went in at too shallow an angle, but Howard kept telling him to do whatever he liked. With a look of both intense surprise and extreme concentration on his face, Vince had fucked Howard slowly while constantly asking if he was okay.

"You can go harder", Howard had said in a tight voice, trying not to beg in case it put pressure on Vince.

"Yeah, brilliant", said Vince, his eyes closed in bliss, just before he went for it.

Afterwards, Vince had snuggled into Howard and whispered, "Was it as good as with Tommy?".

Howard could have said that it wasn't fair to compare a teenager on his first time with an experienced middle-aged man, or that Vince and Tommy were completely different people, or that what he had with Vince had its own special magic, quite separate from whatever he had had with Tommy. Instead he kissed Vince again and again and told him what he wanted to hear.

"It was better, Vince, the best ever. You were incredible, really".

Apart from anything else, it was the literal truth. Tommy had been Howard's first love, and he would honour his memory all his days, but Vince was his true love, and being with him was a million wishes come true at once. And a true love who was young, beautiful, agile, and athletic was nothing to complain about in the bedroom. Even the parts that had been less than ideal only made Howard eager for the next time, so he could do better at showing Vince what he enjoyed. For a start, he would tell Vince that he liked a lot of friction and didn't need quite so much lube.

And Bill had given them boxes and boxes of condoms in all possible types, sizes, colours, and flavours so they wouldn't need to buy any more for months, or at least weeks. "A jimmy a day keeps the doctor away", Bill had said, with the satisfied air of someone fulfilling their fatherly duty.

***************************************************************

On the wall above the bookcase was a photo of Howard and Vince in the van, about to set out on their great adventure. Vince was wearing a tie-dyed tee-shirt, paint-spattered jeans, and a selection of bead bracelets bought from Leeds markets; Howard was wearing old cords and a frayed plaid shirt, his nose already sunburned and peeling after their trip to Scarborough.

They'd embarked on their journey with nothing but their savings, Howard's sensible packing, Vince's less sensible packing, copies of _Europe on Five Euros a Day_ and _Gay Europe_ , plus a gift of a new camera and two hundred euros from Mary and Bill. Howard gave a wry smile at their faces – Vince's eager and trusting, his own worried and burdened by responsibilities.

The flat was covered in photos from their trip. Starting in France as planned, they had seen all the sights in Paris from the Eiffel Tower to Oscar Wilde's grave, gone to EuroDisney, and Vince had bought an entirely new wardrobe once he saw what teenagers were wearing in Paris. Flares were in, shirts were loose yet somehow clung to the torso, eyeliner was heavy, hair was long and carefully unkempt. Vince had already got through almost half the money Bryan gave him, and sent his dad a telegram requesting more. There was a lengthy wait before Vince received one back from Bryan at the hostel in Le Marais they were staying in.

MY DEAR CHILD COMMA IT IS LOVELY TO HEAR FROM YOU STOP HOWEVER COMMA I AM ALARMED TO HEAR YOU HAVE GONE THROUGH ALMOST HALF YOUR ANNUAL ALLOWANCE IN A MERE THREE WEEKS EXCLAMATION MARK I DID TELL YOU COMMA MY CHILD COMMA THAT YOU WOULD NEED TO LEARN TO BUDGET STOP MIGHT I SUGGEST THAT YOU PASS CONTROL OF THE FINANCES OVER TO HOWARD QUESTION MARK HE IS VERY SENSIBLE COMMA AND I AM SURE HE WILL BE BETTER AT HANDLING YOUR MONEY THAN YOU ARE STOP HAVE A WONDERFUL TIME IN EUROPE COMMA ALL MY LOVE COMMA DAD PARENTHESES OPEN BRYAN PARENTHESES CLOSE STOP

Howard also had a telegram from Bryan.

MY DEAR HOWARD COMMA I AM AFRAID MY LITTLE MUDDLEHEAD IS ALREADY BEING A NUISANCE TO YOU STOP I HAVE TOLD HIM THAT YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF THE MONEY FROM NOW ON STOP MY APOLOGIES FOR GIVING YOU SUCH AN IRKSOME TASK COMMA BUT I TRUST YOU IMPLICITLY STOP PLEASE TAKE GOOD CARE OF MY DEAR CHILD COMMA AND IF EXTRA FUNDS ARE NEEDED DO NOT HESITATE TO SEND ME A TELEGRAM COMMA OR A QUOTATION MARKS OPEN WIRE QUOTATION MARKS CLOSE I BELIEVE IT IS SOMETIMES CALLED STOP HOWEVER COMMA I WILL ONLY SEND THE MONEY TO YOU COMMA NOT TO VINCE STOP I AM SURE YOU WILL UNDERSTAND EXCLAMATION MARK ENJOY YOUR TIME IN EUROPE STOP WARM REGARDS COMMA BRYAN

After that, Howard insisted that they leave Paris and start living a lot more frugally, beginning with staying at free campsites in the countryside where they could sleep in the van overnight, buying food from village markets, fishing from the river, and cooking over a fire. To his surprise, Vince enjoyed this part of their trip more than being in Paris – it reminded him of the forest, and being alone with Howard all day and all night was fun. His favourite part was after Howard had cooked dinner and they'd both cleared away; then they would curl up together in a blanket, looking at the embers of the fire, and talking in between kisses, until talk ceased, and there was only kissing.

************************************************************

As they travelled further south in France, Vince began to feel more at home. The fresh mountain air and the deep woods sang in his blood, the golden light in the afternoons soothed him. Vince was interested in all the evidence of Roman history that Howard pointed out to him, and was thrilled that so many artists had either been born in the south, or were drawn there; a cafe where artists had paid with their food with sketches that now hung on their walls made him exclaim with delight. He even thought he was seeing a higher proportion of people with his nose and other features.

"I think my family were from the south of France", he confided in Howard.

"What makes you say so?", asked Howard, negotiating a tricky bend on a mountain road.

"I just _feel_ as if they were", said Vince.

One day they were in a village in the Pyrenees, when they wandered into a picturesque churchyard beneath an ancient ruined castle, and began seeing many headstones with the name _Noir_ engraved on them. Vince began searching for everyone he could find with the surname Noir, and it didn't take long before he found a _Vince Noir_ , and then another, and another, each separated by many decades.

While Vince continued his exploration, Howard consulted a man tending the churchyard in his halting, schoolboy French. The _sacristain_ smiled at his efforts, and spoke in English.

"Yes, that is an old name here. There were many Noirs once. _Une grande famille_ ".

Howard wasn't sure whether that meant a large family, or one of significance.

"Quite a few called Vince Noir, I see?", Howard said, pointing out one of the headstones.

"A traditional name in Castel Nègre", said the man. "Named for ... an important man, the ... first of them".

"The founder of the family?", suggested Howard, and the man nodded.

"He was ...", the man began, when Vince interrupted, his eyes blazing.

"Howard, look!", he squealed, pointing to a statue on a hill just above them.

It was in very poor condition, but the inscription could still be read, saying that it was in honour of Vince Le Noir, Prince de Gothia, followed by the Latin inscription they had seen before: VINCE TENEBRAE. The man had followed them, smiling to himself at Vince's excitement.

"Yes, Vince Le Noir, how do you say? The Black Prince".

"Am I a prince?", Vince demanded of him. "The prince of Gothia?".

The man gave a wheezing laugh, and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Long, long ago", he said. "They are all gone. Gothia is no more. No, no. There are no princes, not for many centuries. But I can tell you are a Noir, you have their face".

"Are there any Noirs still in the village?", asked Howard hopefully.

The man shook his head. "All gone. The last was Monsieur Bernard, who joined the Free French and did not return. The war changed everything".

"Did he go to London?", Howard asked.

"I never heard that", said the man doubtfully. "But you must remember, I was only young, a child".

Howard asked the man if there were any photos of the family, or any church records, but they had all been destroyed in a fire. The fire, like everything else, had been long ago, and the _sacristain_ was pleased to tell them that L'église de Saint-Aphrodise had been completely restored since then.

It was all very frustrating, Howard thought, but Vince seemed perfectly content to believe he was a Gothic prince. Howard tried explaining to him about the Visigoths and their kingdom, and how there hadn't been a prince for many hundreds of years, but Vince kept saying, "Yeah, genius", without really listening.

"You see Howard, I just _feel_ as if I'm a Gothic prince", explained Vince.

************************************************************

When the free campsites closed in mid-autumn, Howard and Vince left France, and mostly stayed in cheap guesthouses and short-term rented flats. Vince liked this: it was much easier to bum Howard in a bed compared to the back of the van.

They were happy, they were in love, and they laughed often; there were many days where there was nothing but closeness and contentment between them. Did they ever fight? Of course they did – once so volubly in an Amsterdam hotel that the police had been called; they had apologised, but a small piece about it still appeared in the local newspaper.

Howard had been distraught, seeing how he had upset Vince with his temper tantrum, and all over some stupid laundry. Yes, Vince had destroyed all his shirts and money was tight, but at least Vince had been trying to help, and Howard should have showed him how the washing machine worked. Vince had shouted at Howard in shame and frustration, his face stained with tears (literally stained, as his eyeliner had smudged). Vince was fed up with Howard; his bossiness, his fussiness, and his tight-fisted refusal to spend money on a dry cleaning service. Now they were in trouble with the cops, and the hotel was furious with them. They might even get kicked out.

Howard didn't know how to make it up to Vince, to make it right. This went beyond buying him an ice cream as a peace offering, or taking him out to the hippest nightclub in the city until he danced off his bad mood. He could only think of one thing to do, so he awkwardly picked Vince up, carried him to bed, and gave him a bumming for the first time.

Some time later, curled up in Howard's arms, his tears having been kissed away, Vince asked, "Did you bum me just because we had a fight?".

"Yeah, I couldn't think how else to make you stop being angry with me", admitted Howard.

"Genius, we're going to have to have a lot more fights now", grinned Vince, nestling himself more comfortably.

"Did I hurt you, little man?", Howard asked anxiously.

"Mm, a bit", said Vince, who ached and felt stretched inside, although there was pleasure mingled with the pain. "Mostly at the start".

"Was it ... was I alright at it?", Howard asked.

"Nah, I just came all over you to be polite, you berk", said Vince lazily.

"No complaints?".

"Well ... maybe use just a bit more lube, next time".

"I used a ton!".

"You need a ton and a half for _your c_ ock", Vince advised.

There were a few moments of silence, and then Howard murmured, "How soon do you think before our next fight?".

"Let me recover first, you bum-obsessed beast", teased Vince. "But I'm pretty sure I can work myself into a real strop by next week. Let's get out of Amsterdam, though – I'm bloody sick of riding bikes everywhere".

*******************************************************

Not every day of their travels was romantic, or dramatic, or erotic. Many were dull, grey, wet, cold. It wasn't unusual for them to be tired, confused, hungry; to have mislaid belongings or lost their way. They had trouble finding somewhere to sleep for the night. The van broke down.

But somehow Howard couldn't remember those days very clearly. The ones which stood out in his memory were the ones where every moment had been perfect, and he treasured them. One of the best times had been Christmas Eve in Salzburg, where Vince had ice skated in a pink faux fur coat, looking like a frost fairy, while Howard was a polar bear all in white, and they had nibbled gingerbread while exploring the markets.

Vince had woken on Christmas Day in their little flat, uncharacteristically gloomy.

"England feels a long way away, doesn't it?", Vince said, looking out the window at the quiet street below. "I can't remember a Christmas not spent in the forest, and now I'm having it in a city far away".

"Never mind, little man", Howard had said heartily. "I've put up a tiny Christmas tree, and I've bought a turkey for lunch, and we can open our presents in a bit. Here, have some hot chocolate".

"I haven't seen Dad for six months, and I haven't stayed with him since last Easter", said Vince, continuing to stare out the window, feeling vaguely irritated by Howard's air of suppressed excitement, and refusal to allow him to open any gifts straight away. It was _tradition_ to open your presents as soon as you got up! He turned away from the window, and curled up on the sofa with a rug over him, thinking of Christmases past, his mood distinctly on the Ebenezer Scrooge side of the Christmas Spirit Scale.

And then there came an unexpected knock at the door, and Howard opened it. Vince's eyes grew enormous as he shrieked, "Dad!", and jumped up to throw himself into Bryan's arms.

"Merry Christmas, my dear child", said Bryan, as he hugged Vince tight. "And Howard, many thanks for inviting me".

Howard looked pink and pleased as Bryan explained that Howard had sent him a telegram, or a "wire" he believed they were sometimes called, and asked if he would like to come to Salzburg to spend Christmas with them. Bryan had organised for Phil Manzanera from Roxy Music to housesit and take care of the animals while he was away, and booked into the best suite at the nearest hotel to them at once.

They opened their presents together, Bryan sitting next to Vince on the sofa with his arm around him.

"Vince, you are so thin, my child", said Bryan in concern, rubbing Vince's bony shoulders. "And when did you last visit a salon? Your hair is a mess. And your clothes – you should really buy some new ones".

"I'm alright, Dad", Vince said, self-consciously pulling his long hair back and twisting it between his fingers. "I never eat much, and there's no time to get my hair done and buy clothes when we're travelling".

Howard worried that maybe he had been _too_ frugal. Was Vince really too thin? Vince always looked beautiful to Howard, and foreign travel had made him more of a fussy eater, although Howard tried to cook as often as possible. Howard himself had lost weight from saving money on food and doing so much walking while sightseeing: he had thought it a natural consequence of travel.

Bryan gave Vince and Howard ten thousand euros each for their Christmas present, which Howard said was far too generous; Vince merely hugged and kissed Bryan, saying, "Thank you, Daddy!".

"Please buy some food and clothing. And get your hair cut and styled. And maybe spend just a little more on accomodation?", Bryan suggested, looking around at their tiny flat, which was well-located and scrupulously clean, but bare and drab. "You do not have to stay at expensive hotels, but perhaps find something ... slightly more ... charming?".

Howard served Christmas lunch; it turned out the "turkey" was made from tofu, which Bryan said was delicious, and he must get one next year. Afterwards, the three of them put on warm coats and went to see the cathedral and the castle. They took Bryan to the markets, where he bought Vince sweet chestnuts and vanilla biscuits, and they had dinner at Bryan's hotel, which left them bursting at the seams. Bryan stuffed Vince with potato soup, cheese pancakes, vegetarian goulash and dumplings, and then insisted on Vince having every dessert on the menu, from apple strudel to rich chocolate cake.

The next day Bryan took them for a week's holiday at a guesthouse of the requisite charm, high up in the Alps. There was a luxury resort nearby, and here Bryan and Vince had spa treatments together, and Vince's hair was finally cut and styled into something Bryan could look at without experiencing pain. Then Bryan bought Vince a new winter wardrobe with warm jumpers and coats; Vince used some of his Christmas money to buy one for Howard. In the mountains, they could hike on snow-shoes, toboggan, and be taken on horse-drawn sleigh rides, but Vince and Howard's favourite thing was to cuddle in their room, looking out at the magnificent view.

*************************************************************

For Howard's birthday in early May they had gone to Majorca for two weeks, and he didn't think anything could ever be as wonderful as swimming in the ocean all day with Vince, who barely wore clothes and fussed over his hair and make-up less than usual. Howard kept telling Vince how beautiful he was without even trying, but photos of Vince in his natural state had a way of mysteriously disappearing.

Straight after, they had gone to Morocco for Vince's birthday, which reminded them of Xooberon, and contained a glamour that Europe knew not. It was strange, but somehow they felt more at home there. Their Marrakesh guest house was a tiny white palace from _The Arabian Nights_ , and every alley an adventure. Vince draped himself in scarves and robes he found in the marketplace, his make up becoming ever more glittering and elaborate until the locals all referred to him as Howard's wife or girlfriend. Howard couldn't decide which Vince he was more attracted to – sea and sunshine Vince, or magic and moonlight Vince.

They had travelled together since then. Last August they had gone to Edinburgh to see the Festival, but although they loved the city, hadn't been thrilled by the comedy on offer. "We could do better ourselves", Vince said, and started outlining an idea for a story about them driving in the van to a cottage in Cheshire where they had once spent a romantic weekend. Vince said he would make the costumes and design the sets, but Howard said they had work and study commitments - they couldn't suddenly drop it all to become comedians. And he didn't think anyone else would like that sort of show.

"Satire and observational humour. That's what the public wants, Vince".

******************************************************************

Howard took his reviews into the bedroom, ready to stick them into his scrapbook, and found Vince curled up in bed.

"Alright, Howard?", said Vince with a yawn.

"What are you doing here, little man?", said Howard, sitting on the bed and leaning over so he could kiss his boyfriend. "I would have picked you up from college if you'd phoned me".

"Nah, I had lunch with Leroy and he dropped me off", said Vince, looking up at Howard with a little smile. "You were busy with a customer, so I let myself in with the key you gave me and went upstairs for a little sleepie".

"And what's Leroy up to these days?".

"Oh, he's working on a film shoot, it sounds completely mental", said Vince. "He's got a new girlfriend".

"The girlfriend of the month?".

"Yeah, Swedish this time. She's stunning, actually".

"Let me guess. She looks exactly like all the rest of them – petite with blonde hair and blue eyes", said Howard, sounding disapproving.

"What can I say, he's got a type", grinned Vince. "I had to dye my hair black so he didn't get overexcited and bum me in the night".

"Leroy, the Midnight Bummer", chuckled Howard.

"I always said Leroy would drive the girls nuts", said Vince. "It just took him a while to get going".

"How was college?", asked Howard.

"Amazing", said Vince. "I was brilliant. I'm the top student already".

"You only started college a few weeks ago, you little titbox", said Howard. "Last year you were just doing a foundation course".

"Yeah, that's probably why I'm the best", grinned Vince. "I'm basically a fashion genius. So how was work?".

"I'm definitely going to make Employee of the Month again", Howard smiled.

"You're the only employee", Vince pointed out.

"Yes, it does seem a bit unfair to the rest of the staff, them not existing, but there you go. I'm the best in the biz, baby".

"What – the manky old second hand shop biz?", said Vince fastidiously.

"You love second hand shops. That's where you get all your clothes".

"Vintage, not second hand", Vince protested.

"Can you stay the whole weekend?", asked Howard, fondly stroking Vince's hair.

"Sorry, Howard", said Vince regretfully. "I've got a group project I need to work on".

"I can drive you in to college for that", said Howard.

"Brilliant", said Vince.

"If you want to stay for the weekend, I'll hang out in your room and wait for you until you're finished before driving back here. It's like a luxury hotel in there anyway".

"Yeah, it's great living at Barratt House, Bryan always said I'd like it", Vince replied. "I'd love to stay with you, if it's alright".

"There's no parties on you want to go to?", Howard asked doubtfully.

"We don't have parties all the time at college", Vince protested. "We're serious students".

"You went to every single party during Orientation Week, including the women-only one", argued Howard.

"Okay, there's one later this month for Halloween", allowed Vince. "D'you want to come to it with me?".

"Oh yeah, so everyone can say, _Who's this sad sack of shit still going to college parties at the age of thirty_?", snorted Howard.

"No way, they'll think you're at least forty-five", teased Vince. "But seriously, Howard, I want to show off my gorgeous boyfriend. It's no good bragging all the time about how my boyfriend is a handsome famous author if nobody ever sees you".

"I don't have to wear a costume, do I?", asked Howard.

"You can't go to a Halloween party at a fashion college and not wear a costume", said Vince, looking slightly scandalised. "I've already started making ours".

"Oh .... what are we going as?", asked Howard nervously.

"You're going to be a sailor, and I'll be a mermaid", smiled Vince happily. "I'm wearing a long platinum blonde wig and a sparkly clamshell bra. I'm having trouble with the tail, but when it's finished it's going to look genius".

"If you're wearing a tail, how will you walk?", Howard wondered.

"I won't. You'll have to push me around in a wheelbarrow", Vince explained.

"You have _got_ to be joking", said Howard.

"Don't worry – the wheelbarrow will be filled with sand and water and rocks, so I'll look like a real mermaid in a rock pool on the beach", Vince assured him.

"So I not only have to wheel you around everywhere, but also sand, water, and rocks? Do you know how heavy that'll be?".

"I know, Howard", said Vince. "The costume only works because I've got such a big, strong, powerful boyfriend". He batted his long eyelashes at Howard hopefully.

"Oh, okay", said Howard, giving in as usual. "What am I getting out of this whole experience, besides a hernia and a heart attack?".

"You get to go to a cool party with your wonderful boyfriend who you love, in a brilliant costume, and everyone will be amazed at how genius we look", said Vince. "Plus, I'm pretty sure you'll be able to get my bra off if you want to".

"Mmm ... tell me more about this bra", said Howard, folding the sheets down so he could kiss Vince's bare shoulders and collarbone.

"I've put the clasp at the front for easy removal", said Vince demurely. "Even big scruffs with huge northern mitts can unclip it in a second".

"Little exhibitionist, getting your tits out in front of everyone", Howard said, sliding his hands under the sheets to cup Vince's soft little tits.

"You'll be getting them out, not me", Vince grinned, giving a wriggle as Howard licked his nipples into points.

"What are you wearing?", murmured Howard.

"Nothing", said Vince, with wide innocent-looking blue eyes.

"That's my favourite outfit of yours", said Howard with a wolfish smile, his hands exploring lower and lower until Vince gave a little gasp.

******************************************************

"Vince? You're not asleep are you?", Howard said in Vince's ear.

"Mm, not yet", said Vince dozily, turning over and cuddling into Howard's bulk and warmth.

"I've been meaning to ask you something", Howard continued. "You know, weekends are really busy at the shop, and I could use a hand on Saturday mornings".

"Wait ... are you offering me a _job_?", Vince said, sounding more awake.

"Well, Naboo is. He owns the shop", said Howard. "But uh ... I did let him know I could do with a weekend assistant, and I highly recommended you".

"What about my studies?", Vince objected. "Work could interfere with that".

"You used to work on Saturday mornings and still manage school and homework", Howard pointed out.

"Yeah but ... I don't really need the money any more, do I?", Vince said.

"Retail experience would look good on your CV", Howard said persuasively. "And it would show people you're not just some lazy spoiled trust fund kid".

"Is that what you think of me, a lazy spoiled kid?", said Vince in a hurt tone, twisting around to look at Howard. "And I don't have a trust fund – it's a weekly allowance while I'm studying!".

"Your allowance comes out of a trust fund. Didn't you ever read the fine print of anything you signed?", asked Howard in exasperation.

"I never even read the big print", giggled Vince.

"Anyhow, apart from working at the shop looking great on your CV and proving you can handle responsibility, I could really do with the help", Howard went on determinedly.

"You need help running a manky old second hand shop?", asked Vince with some scepticism. "It can't be _that_ much busier on weekends".

"Well ... it's not just the shop", Howard admitted. "You know, I do other jobs for Naboo as well. More ... arcane things".

"You've been going on _missions_ for Naboo?", yelped Vince, sitting right up and giving Howard a reproachful look. "You never even let on".

"No, no ... not really missions", said Howard. "At least, my role has been very minor. I'm like the boring old operative in a spy novel, chained to a desk, handing people code words and organising their travel expenses while the cool people get all the action".

"So you're Miss Moneypenny, and you want to be James Bond?", smiled Vince.

"Well, yeah ... but only if you're with me", said Howard. "I need you, Vince".

 _"_ Why didn't you _say_ so?", said Vince, bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement. "Of course I want to go on missions with you. We'll be like _The Avengers_ ".

"Please say _you're_ Emma", said Howard with a quirk of his mouth.

"Wait a minute, did you say before there'd be travel involved?", Vince asked, his eyes blazing a bright clear blue as they did when he was either thrilled or aroused.

"Yeah. Might have to go to other planets. Maybe into other dimensions from time to time", said Howard with feigned casualness.

"I'm going to start work on our outfits right away", said Vince excitedly. "I'm thinking, silver bodysuit and a shiny blue cape".

"I refuse to wear anything so ridiculous", Howard said firmly.

"Not for you, you berk, that's my outfit", Vince assured him. "For you, I'm thinking some kind of tweed utility suit with dozens of pockets for your compass, ball of string, pen knife, and so on".

"That actually sounds pretty good", Howard admitted. "So you're definitely up for this?".

"Howard, I was born for this", said Vince seriously. "It's the Code of the Noirs".

"You have a family code now?", Howard asked with raised eyebrows.

"Well no, but I'd better write one, since I'm the last of the Noirs", Vince said seriously. He began chanting:

_If it's dark, fight it_  
_Leave your mark, bite it_

When he paused, Howard unexpectedly joined in:

_When they're light, aid them_  
_Use all your might to save them_

and then together they concluded:

_Never stop the fight, never say you're done_  
_'Til all is put to rights and light has won_

"We wrote a poem together", said Vince, glancing at Howard. They both looked shyly at each other, as if they had done something far more intimate than make love.

"How ... how did you know what I was going to say at the end?", asked Howard.

"I guess the same way you knew what I was going to say", shrugged Vince.

"That's ... strange. We'll have to try that again some time", Howard said. "So, uh ... you can start work at the shop next weekend?".

"Yeah 'course, Howard. We're a team", said Vince. "This thing we've got is for forever".

Howard smiled, leaning down to kiss his boyfriend.

The kiss seemed to last a lifetime, and Howard thought it would be a long time before either of them came up for air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Gay Europe" by David Andrusia was one of the first mass-market gay travel guidebooks. Published in 1995, a few years later it became "Frommer's Gay & Lesbian Europe". Howard and Vince seem to put it to good use, checking out Oscar Wilde's grave and booking into a hostel in Paris' gay district.
> 
> You could send telegrams in France until just a year or so ago. In the UK, telegrams were phased out in the 1980s and replaced with telemessages, which were (I think) basically the same thing. Of course nobody sent telegrams like Bryan – it's just a joke. He seems to have misunderstood the use of the word STOP and thought all punctuation needed to be spelled out.
> 
> I made Vince's ancestry from the south of France because I thought I had a vague recollection of hearing that the French side of Noel's family were from the Languedoc region. I know that he does love this area of France, and the cafe that delights Vince is based on Noel's favourite restaurant.
> 
> I had the annoying experience of making up names and titles for Vince's fantastical French heritage, then Googling them and discovering that they were real! After a while, I just went with it, so it's slightly based in truth, but about as historically valid as a Dan Brown novel. Castel Nègre means Chateau Noir in the Occitan language; I pictured it as being somewhere around Carcassonne, and to my irritation found there is a place with this name exactly where I wanted it – however, the village is still essentially imaginary. Gothia is a very old name for that part of Provence which includes the Languedoc; it's named for the Visigoths, a Germanic tribe which once ruled there, gaining power as federates of the Romans. The Prince of Gothia was a title given in the Middle Ages to rulers in this area (most notably the Counts of Toulouse, equals to the King of France – Bernard was a traditional name in their line). The story seems to suggest that the Visigoths stayed in power for much longer in this universe, and that the Noir family is descended from one of their minor royals, "Vince the Black". Even in our world, Visigothic towns and cities have sometimes become little villages by now, so that part isn't so ridiculous. 
> 
> Vince's grandfather, Bernard Noir, joined the Free French Forces, perhaps around 1943 when he had turned 18. This was the time when the Free French and the African Army joined to become the Armée française de la Liberation; Bernard would have been part of the liberation of France. What he did after the war is a mystery, but as he never returned home and doesn't seem to have married until his thirties, I picture him as being involved in important duties for a long time, possibly in post-war reconstruction, or taking on a perilous quest against the darkness. Because Vince feels so at home in Morocco, I wonder if there could have been a North African connection. At some point, Bernard must have moved to London. 
> 
> St Aphrodisius, in French Aphrodise, was a saint of the Languedoc whose legend seems to have got very mixed up with pagan traditions – something of a hallmark of religion in this part of France. After he was supposedly martyred, the city of Béziers adopted his camel and bought it a house; in annual processions, representations of this camel are accompanied by wild men of the woods dancing to bagpipes. The whole thing struck me as Booshily bonkers.
> 
> Howard and Vince's fight in Amsterdam is based on the famous very loud argument Noel and Julian had at a hotel in Edinburgh after Noel ruined Julian's white shirt doing the laundry. I don't think the police got involved, but a piece about it was published in a gossip column; the column implied that it seemed more like the kind of quarrel you have with your domestic partner than your comedy partner. Of course, this argument most likely didn't end in a bumming! 
> 
> Tofurky started being sold in 1995. As patron of the Vegetarian Society, Bryan would have been aware of the product, but hasn't had a chance to try it before. 
> 
> Vince is referring to "The Avengers", the 1960s British spy show, starring Patrick Macnee as John Steed, and Diana Rigg as his most popular partner, Emma Peel. As well as her stylish looks and love of sexy catsuits, Emma is also the martial arts expert in the crime-fighting duo and responsible for the hand-to-hand combat, so Howard presumably sees Vince as fulfilling her role.


	32. Two of a Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A time skip epilogue, taking Howard and Vince's relationship until quite recently in the past. What are things like as they've aged, what regrets do they have? And most importantly, the final legal obstacle is overcome between them. Posting early due to the possibility of evacuation, sorry that once again it's rougher than I would have liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So at last we meet again, together now until the end  
> We are as one and all is saved  
> So now it's time to turn, turn the final page  
> Together we find, a place here in time  
> Together in mind, all ways to shine
> 
> Two of a Kind – Cast 
> 
> It's been like a marriage. ~ Julian Barratt
> 
> We're like a couple who've been together years and years, but every now and again, we still hold hands. ~ Noel Fielding
> 
> Noel Fielding: There's a lot of love, isn't there?  
> Julian Barratt: Lot of love. Yeah.  
> Noel Fielding: There is a lot of love.

**April 5 2014**

Howard and Vince were lounging on deck chairs in their front garden, enjoying the spring sunshine.

"You don't mind that we didn't go anywhere more exciting for our honeymoon?", Howard asked, as he looked through a large packet of mail his agent Eleanor had sent on to him.

"No, it's great just staying in our villa. It's relaxing, like being at home, but with a beach and better weather", Vince assured him as he rolled over onto his stomach and adjusted his sunglasses. "And you've always loved Majorca".

"It was hard finding anything nice at the end of March", Howard continued to fret.

"You know, we didn't _have_ to get married", Vince pointed out. "We already had a civil ceremony, years ago, and had a honeymoon then. And we definitely didn't need to get married on the first day it became legal!".

"I was one of the most vocal proponents of same-sex marriage, and led the campaign for it", said Howard. "I could hardly turn around and say, _Actually, I don't think I'll bother after all_. And I think voters would prefer it if I was married".

For Howard had managed to reach the dizzying heights of being elected to Camden Council, and been named by an overexcited local journalist as the person most likely to one day become Mayor of Camden. Vince pretended to make fun of Howard's democratic ambitions while in fact being thrilled by them.

"When I'm the Mayoress, do I get to do anything cool, like open new Topshop stores or anything?", Vince had asked teasingly.

"You wouldn't be the Mayoress, you'd be the Lord Mayor's Consort", Howard had said vaguely, working hunched over his laptop. "And you'd mostly be accompanying me to boring civic functions. But it's all nonsense anyway. I won't get to be mayor".

"Ugh, Consort sounds like a mistress", Vince had complained. "I'll make it work though, I'll make it seem well filthy. And you _will_ become Mayor – I want to go all the way to Number Ten, and become First Lady".

"The Prime Minister's Wife isn't a First Lady, you're thinking of the US President", Howard lectured him. "And you wouldn't be called a Lady anyway – just the Prime Minister's Husband. And there's no chance of me ever becoming PM".

"Oh, you're no fun", Vince had griped. "I was planning an entire wardrobe around our new lives at Number Ten. Lots of long flowing blue robes trimmed with white faux fur, and big red hats".

Howard rolled his eyes, while secretly thinking how glamorous and charming Vince would be as a Prime Minister's Wife .... no, Husband ...

Howard had wanted an intimate wedding for just their families and closest friends. Vince had wanted a huge glittering affair with outrageous costumes, hundreds of guests, paparazzi everywhere, and music supplied by indie gothic glam rock stars. They compromised, so the wedding was small and private, and the reception threatened to involve everyone in London.

**From the BBC, Saturday March 29 2014:**

_The first same-sex weddings have taken place after gay marriage became legal in England and Wales at midnight. Several couples were ready to tie the knot the moment the law changed._

_Novelist, Camden councillor, and gay rights activist Howard Moon, 45, quietly married at a private ceremony at Camden Town Hall this morning, said, "This was the work of many people over many years, pushing for legislative change. I mean, don't get the idea I did it all on my own! But it's very gratifying indeed. This is a special day that belongs to so many people, and it is a privilege for Vince and I to share in it with other happy couples"._

_Howard Moon's husband, fashion designer, TV host, and artist Vince Noir, 35, added, "Don't you love these suits I knocked up? They're genius, aren't they? We're having our wedding photos taken on Hampstead Heath by Cheekbone magazine, and then it's a massive rainbow rave at The Marwood Hotel, just been renovated. It's mental – we've got Kasabian, we've got my dad, Bryan Ferry, we've got Adam Ant ... sounds like we're holding him hostage, ha ha! Anyway, drop by later, there's always room for one more"._

_Howard Moon interjected, "Let's not forget the work that needs to be done internationally, and those in countries where their sexual orientation is still criminalised. A day like today brings a ray of hope to all the world"._

**************************************************

Howard and Vince's first honeymoon had been after their civil union in 2005. Howard had suggested they hold out for full marriage equality, but Vince said they might die of old age before that ever happened, and he'd been bursting to make a commitment to Howard since he was seventeen. And even Howard couldn't argue that Vince had completed his education, worked hard, and travelled extensively, while he and Howard had been living together for several years.

It was an inconvenient time of year to book a honeymoon, so they decided to spend Christmas and New Year at a resort in the Bahamas, Vince saying he was perfectly happy to lie on the beach or laze around the pool for a fortnight. Howard was in a bit of a mood. He was struggling to get the proofs done of his latest novel, _Zoo Days_ – a comic story based on his life at the zoo with Tommy (their names changed to Alan and George). The novel didn't mention all the illegal sex they'd had, Howard accidentally dying, or Tommy getting abducted by a green-faced psycho.

Vince was miffed that Howard had brought work on their honeymoon, somewhat annoyed by the new book's plot, and irritated that it was going to be dedicated _To the memory of Tommy Nooka, the greatest zookeeper in the world, and a dear friend - departed, but never to be forgotten._

To Howard's dismay, he received a lengthy phone call from Eleanor, telling him that Hamilton Cork hadn't been that impressed by _Zoo Days_ , the first sentence being slightly wonky, and wasn't planning on promoting it very hard. The trouble was that Howard's mystery novel, which he had dashed off without much thought, had been unexpectedly popular, and Hamilton Cork wanted him to continue it into a series with the eccentric jazz-scatting detective in the lead role. So not only was he struggling to get the proofs done, but nobody cared – they wanted him to finish up and get straight to work on the next Dr Julius Barnard mystery.

The phone call had come during dinner, and Howard was still arguing with Eleanor when Vince abruptly left the table. Howard desperately got rid of Eleanor, then looked for Vince at the bar and at the nightclub, before eventually finding him wandering moodily on the twilit beach.

"I'm so sorry, little man", Howard said. "I'm ruining our honeymoon".

"Why do we always fight on holiday?", Vince asked plaintively; a genuine question.

"I don't know, but it's all my fault", said Howard, risking a step towards Vince and putting his arms around him. There was no complaint, so he tentatively kissed him, and received a warm response.

"You know, that's our cabin over there", Vince said, pointing it out.

"Coincidentally, I happen to have the key", said Howard, unlocking the door.

He made it up to Vince in the tried and tested way, until Vince seemed thoroughly forgiving. Afterwards though, he asked why Howard had been in such a foul mood, and Howard did his best to explain.

"So you're upset that people want to read more books about your detective?", Vince asked. "I don't get it – mystery writers end up filthy rich, and they're clever and posh on top of it. Is this one of those times when something good happens for you, but you manage to turn it into something bad?".

"It's not that I don't want to write detective novels", Howard said, "and of course I don't mind being popular or making money. It's just that it's not how I imagined myself. I thought I'd write funny, surreal little fantasies about animals, like _The Forest Boy_ and _Zoo Days_. That was the kind of writer I thought I would be".

"If you make money for Hamilton Cork, you can write what you like", said Vince, who was surprisingly hard-headed, even ruthless, when it came to business. "Tell Cork that for every successful detective novel you write, you get to write a funny animal book and they have to promote it properly, or you'll find a new publisher".

"And what if I fail at both types of novels?", Howard demanded.

"Then we'll sell your sexy pumpkin arse down at the docks", giggled Vince, slapping one of Howard's plump, firm bum cheeks until it blushed pink and jiggled slightly. "Speaking of which, we never had any dinner. Let's get room service".

The next day they returned from an all-morning shopping trip, which was another way Howard was making it up to Vince. He had followed Vince uncomplainingly into boutiques and shoe stores, waited for him patiently, carried all the bags and boxes, and told Vince that every single item he bought made him look stunning.

They'd gone into the resort's cafe to have lunch, when they heard an English woman's voice calling, "Surprise!".

Howard turned around, and said, "Mum?", rather blankly. Then he saw Bill beside her. "And Dad".

Vince turned around and said, "What are you doing here, Dad?".

"I flew Mary and Bill out here so we could all spend Christmas and New Year together", said Bryan Ferry with a smile.

"Dad, we're on our honeymoon!", Vince said indignantly.

"You already had a honeymoon", Mary said. "You drove around Europe in a van. This is just going away for Christmas".

"No, that was Vince's gap year", Bryan said, turning to Mary. "They still aren't married. They only have a civil union, so they can't have a honeymoon yet".

Howard gave his parents a hug and a kiss, and Mary said brightly, "Don't worry, Howard. We won't interfere, and we're miles away from your cabin. All the way over on the other side of the pool".

"You won't even notice we're here most of the time", Bill added.

Howard shook Bryan's hand, and Bryan said, "So when are you going to make an honest man of my son?".

"Oh well ... we're working very hard towards same-sex marriage, and we've got civil unions now. Which are very important, legally speaking".

"Well, work a bit harder on it, Howard", Bryan urged. "I want to give Vince his dream wedding, and to sing at your reception, and buy you a house as a wedding present. I do not want to be too old when it happens".

"I can't _believe_ you, Dad", Vince said, flouncing into a chair next to his father and looking sulky. "Howard and I came here for a romantic holiday, and you've all turned up without asking".

"It's okay, Vince", Howard said quickly. "It's very generous of you to have brought my mum and dad here, Bryan. Very, very kind. And it will be nice to have Christmas all together".

He looked at Bryan with gratitude, because now, instead of Howard having ruined their honeymoon by bringing work and yelling at his agent during dinner, for ever after, Vince would tell everyone that Bryan had ruined their first honeymoon. Furthermore, Bryan turning up on their honeymoon with Howard's parents in tow would fast become a funny story they would enjoy sharing.

Howard felt very fond of Bryan, and planned to send he and Vince for a day at a spa soon, so he could finally get those bloody proofs done.

*****************************************************

Howard opened another thick packet of mail, and examined its contents.

"Look, Vince! Maryam's novel has been published at last".

He threw it over to his newly legal husband, who read the title: _The Moon Cat in the Tamarind Tree_ , by Maryam Khalif.

"I love the front cover", said Vince. "It's so bright and colourful, like a child's painting".

"I can't believe one of my students has their first novel out", Howard marvelled. "I'm incredibly proud of her, Vince – she's had to overcome so many challenges to get this far".

"She had you to help her", smiled Vince. "You love helping people, Howard".

"I swear, all I did was help her submit the manuscript to Hamilton Cork, and maybe just mentioned it to one or two people. No, Maryam's an extraordinary writer, and very determined. She did it all herself", Howard insisted.

For several years now, Howard had been giving classes and seminars on creative writing in London high schools. Howard often kept in touch with his former students after they left school, and quite a few had gone on to publish stories, essays, and poetry in literary journals, but Maryam was the first to have a novel published.

"You love those kids", Vince said fondly. "You were so starry-eyed your first day, I thought you were actually going to fall _in_ love with one of them".

"I've only ever fallen in love with one teenager", Howard smiled, "and he's nearly grown up now". He held his hand out between the deck chairs so Vince could grasp it – not before gently placing a kiss on Howard's wrist.

Like his parents, Howard was the type of teacher who readily made himself available to students after hours, and who kept in touch after they left school. There was something about Howard that meant his students had often come to him when they were in trouble. He always took them seriously, and would offer what assistance he could.

While Howard had wisdom, Vince was sympathetic. He never told them what they should do, but would make them a cup of tea, and smile at them encouragingly, in a way which suggested everything would be alright. A young girl who would never dream of crying in front of the intellectual Mr Moon might find herself comforted as she sobbed into Vince's shoulder.

With his contacts in law, community services, and social activism, Howard usually knew the right person to talk to who might be able to help. Whether it was an understanding doctor, a therapist specialising in PTSD, a community housing project that gave homeless families a safe place to live, a kind youth worker, or a lawyer who helped refugees, often these young people found the assistance they and their families needed.

Seeing how Howard thrived in the company of young people, Vince had felt a twinge of guilt. It hadn't been long after their civil union that Howard had begun talking about adopting a baby or a young child. It could be a long process, and he thought the sooner they got started, the better. He was sure that Vince would be in favour, being adopted himself, but Vince had immediately refused.

Vince pointed out that he had a busy career involving a lot of travel, and more than a few late nights. He said he didn't want to be the kind of parent who left their kids to be raised by the nanny, or dumped them on babysitters, and shared some of his more hair-raising experiences from when Bryan had left him in the forest while on international tours. He knew what that was like, and there was no way he going to subject another child to the same treatment.

No matter how Howard had argued that they would be different, they would hire caring and responsible nannies, he was willing to become the primary caregiver so Vince's career wouldn't suffer and so on, Vince was adamant. Later, when Vince had rethought things and decided he was ready to become a father, Howard had said he felt too old and tired.

They had missed the opportunity to be parents, and Vince was aware that one of the reasons Howard had become a teacher was so that he could spend time with young people. Vince often wondered if he had made the wrong decision, all those years ago.

***********************************************

Vince's career in fashion had taken off almost as soon as he left college at the top of his class, as he'd been offered a position in Paris as a designer, working for Jean-Claude Jacquettie's fashion house. Howard had always planned to take Vince to Mexico for at least three months when he finished college, maybe backpack the Gringo Trail, and see all the ruins. Instead, he'd had to settle for a week at a beach resort in Puerto Vallarta before he and Vince had to relocate to Paris.

"You sure you don't mind giving up your life to come and live with me?", Vince had asked him with a worried look.

"It's okay, Vince. You need to be in Paris for your job. I'm a writer, I can write anywhere", Howard had assured him.

Sometimes Howard wondered if that was really true, as the years went by and they did so much travelling. At various times they lived in New York, Milan, Tokyo, and Sydney, and for six months that Howard still shuddered to remember, Los Angeles, while Vince worked on the costumes for a Hollywood movie.

There were many late nights, and parties, parties, parties. Vince was always in his element for these, the centre of attention, charismatic, flamboyant, outrageous. He knew everyone, he was the _enfant terrible_ of the fashion world with rock star good looks, according to the adoring French press. Howard was more of a puzzle to them, generally shuffling himself into the background of any photo, and trying to disappear. _Un écrivain très sérieux_ , the French papers called him, while in America articles about him often began, _Reclusive Paris-based English author Howard Moon ..._

It was at one of these parties in 2004 that Vince was approached by an elderly Frenchman, still with a suave charm to him, and impeccably dressed, his hair impossibly dark and glossy.

''Excuse me, you are Vince Noir?'', the man asked. ''I am Sacha Distel''.

''Oh Sacha, pleased to meet you. Yeah, um, jazz guitarist, right? You should meet my partner Howard, he's well into jazz''.

''I am here to see you'', Sacha Distel announced. ''I think I knew your mother. Her name was Sylvie''.

''No, you can't have'', Vince breathed, and then, greedily, ''Tell me about her''.

''I found a child in the forest when she was little more than a baby. I named her Sylvie, and raised her as my daughter in my hideaway in the Ardennes'', said Sacha Distel. ''For you see, I am the Lord of the Forest, and have dominion over all the trees and wild beasts in France''.

This was a strangely familiar story, and Vince listened enthralled as Sacha Distel told him about Sylvie as she grew up in their little tree house; her elfin beauty, her gold hair which shone like a buttercup, her strength and speed, and her remarkable cleverness, for she quickly learned to speak and read several languages, as well as being a talented singer and musician.

''I loved that little girl'', Sacha Distel said, his voice aching with grief, ''but when the Noirs came to me, begging for sanctuary, I knew I would lose her''.

For Sylvie was sixteen, and she and the Noirs' son Max, of a similar age, fell in love almost as soon as they laid eyes on each other; their love first showing in teasing and bickering. The Noirs told Sylvie about the outside world, about people, and shops, and libraries, and concert halls; about cities, and cars, and wide avenues, and great monuments. They made her hungry to see it all, and then they told Sylvie about evil, about darkness, and how it was necessary to fight against it, until Sylvie was ashamed of spending all her life safe and protected by Sacha Distel's magic. When the Noirs eventually left, Sylvie went with them.

''I knew I would never see her again'', said Sacha Distel, wiping his eyes. ''A few years later, she was dead, led into mortal danger by the Noirs. I heard she had a son, but I did not know whether he was still alive, let alone his whereabouts. I saw your photo in a magazine, and straight away, I knew who you were. You have Sylvie's eyes and cheekbones, and Max's nose and mouth, and something of your grandmother Alice in the way you smile, and when you look cold and withdrawn, I see your grandfather Bernard staring me down''.

Vince asked question after question about his mother, learning that her favourite book as a small child was Paddington Bear, and that she pretended to be growing up in the Peruvian jungle, just as Vince had played he was Mowgli in the jungles of India. Like Vince, she had a sweet tooth, and would beg Sacha Distel for nougat, liquorice, and pastilles, while crepes with Nutella filling was her favourite breakfast.

Sacha Distel promised to come and see Vince at their apartment in Paris very soon, bringing all his photos of Sylvie, and anything of hers that Vince might like to keep. Vince was so excited; he kept telling Howard that he had met his adoptive grandfather, and he was well cool. When Sacha visited them, Vince would be able to see photos of his family at last, and have his mother's old books and toys from when she was little.

It was only about two weeks after this that Howard switched on the television to watch the news, and called Vince in, his face grey. Sacha Distel had died after a long illness, and was being mourned as a national treasure. Howard had rarely seen Vince absolutely fall apart, but he went almost wild with grief a the loss of Sacha Distel, his last connection with his mother vanished. He sobbed in Howard's arms like a small child, and Howard did his best to soothe him

Howard tried to make some discreet enquiries, but kept hitting brick walls. Monsieur Distel was being buried on the Riviera in a private ceremony, nobody would be allowed in. Vince Noir? No, nobody had ever heard Monsieur Distel use that name, or Sylvie either. The Ardennes? But no, Monsieur Distel had no estate in the Ardennes; Monsieur Moon must have been misinformed. Howard stubbornly left their names and address with everyone he spoke to, and told Vince he was sorry, but that he had done all he could. He felt that Dr Julius Barnard would have wrapped up this mystery in two hundred pages, but it wasn't so easy for mere mortals.

More than six months later, Vince received a letter from Sacha Distel's lawyers, saying that they had found an old envelope with _Vince Noir_ written on it while going through Monsieur Distel's affairs. They had not opened it to verify the contents, but had decided to send it on to him since they had been supplied with his address.

Vince opened the envelope with trembling fingers, and found a very short letter inside, in the same handwriting as the person who had written _Please take care of this kid_ around his neck.

_Stepney Green_   
_21 May 1981_

_My darling boy,_

_You are three years old today, and have no idea what is going to happen. Today we give you a chocolate cake with three blue candles on it, and we sing you a song, and there are presents for you. Presents which will have to be left behind when we flee, so we encourage you to play with them all today. Darling boy, I wish we didn't have to leave you tomorrow, but where we travel it is too dangerous for you, and I will find you somewhere very safe to wait for us._

_My darling, we are always so careful to speak in English, even amongst ourselves in private, lest we be overheard, and we even try to make our accents sound like those around us. You call me ''Mummy'', and hug and kiss me, yet my heart longs for you to call me ''Maman''. Is that not foolish of me, precious little boy? But I fear that we mothers can be very foolish creatures._

_I hope that this is not the last you ever hear of me, darling boy, but whatever happens, I want you to know that I believe in a world which is fair and just, and that I truly believe that at heart most people are good and kind. Perhaps even those that commit dark deeds and hurt others have their own stories to explain why. If I can ask you to do one thing in my name, it is that you hope for the best always, and see life's sunshine, rather than its dark clouds and storms._

_Adieu, my darling little boy,_

_Mummy (Maman!) xxx_

Sylvie had been careful not to use any names, even in her last letter to her son before she posted it to her father in the Ardennes for safekeeping, but Vince knew it was her. It was all he had of his mother, and he kept it carefully as one of his most precious possessions.

***************************************************

Vince had been very successful as a fashion designer, even becoming an equal partner in the business with Jean-Claude Jacquettie. He had won awards, and been named Best Young Designer of the Year several years in a row, was mentioned proudly by St Martins as one of their finest alumni. And then in 2009, he just … stopped. He sold his share of the business for ten million euros, and he and Howard went back to London, buying themselves a comfortable flat in Kentish Town.

“But Vince, you're only thirty-one”, Howard said. “Are you sure you want to quit an entire international career, just like that?”.

“I'm burnt out”, Vince said. “I'm tired of living out of a suitcase, and I'm sick of parties, and I'm fed up with hangers-on and people acting like they know me, when they don't. I want a normal life with you, where we wake up and read the papers in bed, and then go for a walk, or we cook dinner together, then curl up on the sofa and watch telly”.

What Vince really wanted to do, once he'd had a little holiday to refresh himself, was to become an artist. And so they made sure they bought a flat with a room that could be turned into a studio, and Vince painted, and painted. This was what Howard had always wanted Vince to do, and he kept encouraging Vince when he said he just wasn't very good, and his art career was never going to go anywhere.

Within a couple of years, Vince was holding successful exhibitions and selling his artwork. He would never make as much money as an artist as he had as a fashion designer, but it didn't matter. As Vince said, all that money had gone on an extravagant lifestyle he didn't want any more. It was once Vince had settled into life as an artist that he suggested to Howard that they think about adopting again, but this time it was Howard who regretfully shook his head.

“I'm sorry Vince. I'm in my forties now, and I feel too old and tired to cope with sleepless nights and dirty nappies. My play's being produced at The Young Vic, and I've been elected to the council – I've got too much on, and I'm only going to get busier”.

Vince thought it was the only time their age gap had been any problem since he turned eighteen, and blamed himself for the fact that they never had children together. Howard didn't know that, and he would have told Vince not to be a silly little titbox if he had known. They were both busy people, and Vince had become very successful very early – they hadn't rearranged their lives to make room for children, that's all. That's what Howard would tell him, if he knew.

**********************************************

“Looking forward to moving in to our new house when we get back?”, Howard asked, looking over at Vince.

“Yeah, 'course. But why has Bryan shown you the house, and not me?”, griped Vince.

“Because it's a surprise wedding present for you”, Howard said patiently, in the voice of someone who'd explained this many times now.

“Tell me about the house, Howard”, coaxed Vince.

“I've already told you”.

“Tell me again”, Vince said, curling up on his side as if waiting for a bedtime story.

“It's a three storey Edwardian brick house in Highgate, right on the Heath. And it's a got a little garden with a wooden bench under a beech tree, and the daffodils are all out now, masses of them. And there's a big room with huge windows you can use as a studio, and another one I can have as my office, and there's double doors separating them. So if we want to work in the same room we just pull the doors back, and if we need to work in private we close the doors”.

“Amazing. And what else?”, asked Vince.

“And we can walk on the Heath every day if we want, and join the sports club for swimming and tennis, and there's a little village of shops round the corner, and a nice pub, and lots of restaurants if we want to eat out”.

“Mm, but the house?”.

“You'll have to wait and see”, Howard said with a smile, as Vince pouted.

“Just one more thing?”, he wheedled.

“Alright. You've got a walk in wardrobe the size of a bedroom for all your clothes, shoes, and accessories, and a dressing room attached with massive mirrors so you can check your reflection from all sides”.

''Genius”, sighed Vince. “I love the house”.

Howard opened another piece of mail, and adjusted his spectacles, which he needed for reading now. Vince teased him by calling out, “Oi, Four-Eyes!”, but he actually thought Howard's glasses made him look distinguished and professorial. He could definitely picture his grey-haired husband as a stern yet sexy teacher who might keep Vince after class for a bit of extra tutoring …

“The BBC are finally starting filming on _The Case Book of Dr Julius Barnard_ ”, Howard announced. “And guess who they've chosen to play the lead role?”.

“Benedict Cumberbatch?”, guessed Vince idly.

“No. Simon Bloody McFarnaby!”, said Howard in disgust.

“Whose cock did he suck to get that?”, Vince wanted to know. “And can't you stop it?”.

“I don't get any say into the casting, or anything else”, said Howard. “And it says here that McFarnaby blew everyone away at the audition”.

“Blew their cocks away, more like”, Vince said.

“Some of them are women”.

“Blew their cocks and fannies”, Vince amended, turning over and sitting up again.

“Well, however he did it, he's going to be Dr Julius Barnard”, said Howard, already sounding resigned. “I don't have much hope of it getting a second series now”.

“They'd better not mess up your film anyway”, said Vince, for the film rights to _The Forest Boy_ had finally been sold. Howard had to admit Eleanor had driven a very good bargain on his behalf.

“Oh God, they won't even start filming for years, if they start at all”, Howard said.

“Any chance of me getting a role in the film?”, asked Vince hopefully.

“They probably want a young boy to play Noel”, Howard pointed out.

“They could put in a bit at the end, showing Noel all grown up, and it would be me”, Vince said, giving Howard a mischievous grin.

“The whole thing will probably be CGI or something”, Howard predicted gloomily.

“I can caper around in front of a green screen”, Vince said persuasively. “I could probably play one of the animals, for that matter. Look!”. He gave a tiger growl and lashed out one hand as if it was a paw coming down.

“What I really want you do is illustrate children's books”, said Howard. “The head of Hamilton Cork has been on at me to persuade you to write a picture book for kids, with your paintings as the illustrations. Those wonderful tales about the forest could become little books – or what about those stories you make up about the pink bubblegum monster called Charlie?”.

“Yeah, I'll think about it”, said Vince. “But you know what we never got to do, Howard?”.

“Backpack around Mexico”, said Howard promptly. “Always wanted to do it, but we never had time, and now I don't know if I'm fit enough”.

“No, we never got to have a music career with The Mighty Boosh, and we never did find that new sound”, said Vince discontentedly.

“Vince, you're a fashion designer turned surrealist painter, and I'm an author, teacher, activist, and councillor”, said Howard. “We can't live every life that is possible for us. If we'd been musicians, we couldn't have done these other things”.

“We started off busking in Paris, but it never led anywhere”, said Vince.

“Well, we were making about two euros a day from our busking, and you were spending two hundred euros a day on clothes and your hair”, Howard pointed out.

“Yeah, that's right, I was investing in our future by working on my image as frontman”, argued Vince. “We could have been big, Howard. We could have played Wembley Stadium and the O2 Arena and toured America. We could have had fans going mad for us, and groupies, and an entourage, and ...”.

“We would have imploded”, Howard said. “Neither of us could have handled that sort of fame”.

“Better to burn out than fade away”, quoted Vince. “Even if it all blew up in our faces, we would have still _done_ it”.

“We might have lost each other in the process”, said Howard seriously.

Vince sat straight up. “That would never happen”, he said. “At least, not permanently. We would have found a way back to each other”.

“That's true”, Howard said. “Well, maybe we could have done a little bit more with our music. Maybe played in a few clubs on weekends, at least. I do still like getting the guitar out for Writers Festivals. They call me the Jimi Hendrix of mystery writers”.

“I would have liked to go on the telly”, Vince mused.

“You were on the telly”, Howard reminded him. “You were the host of _Britain's Next Top Model_ , and a judge on _Project Catwalk_. You've done _The Apprentice_ and _Celebrity Bake-Off_ , and been on panel shows, and chat shows”.

“I mean as an actor”, Vince said. “I feel as if I could have been a good comedy actor with the right training and experience”.

“Try to be happy with what you've got”, pleaded Howard, reaching over to hold Vince's hand. “I couldn't be happier with you, and our life together, and how everything has worked out”.

“Don't worry, I'm off my tits on happiness”, Vince assured him. “I don't why I get in these silly moods, sometimes”. He leaned over to give his husband a lingering kiss.

“I think you almost dream while you're awake, and can see all the possible futures in all the different universes at once”, said Howard.

“Is there a future including lunch in this universe?”, asked Vince cheekily.

“Yes. I'm doing a frittata, and when we went for a walk on the beach this morning I bought some sardines from those fishermen to have with green beans”, Howard informed him.

“And for pudding?”.

“ _Crema Catalena_ , already made in the fridge”, said Howard.

“And maybe after lunch a nice siesta together?”, said Vince suggestively.

“Mm, maybe”, smiled Howard, leaning over to give his own lingering kiss. “Shall we go in now, and I'll start lunch?”.

“Okay Howard”, said Vince, getting up. “But remember, if you go in, you can never leave”.

“What, never leave the villa? Or never leave Spain?”, Howard asked with a smile.

“You can never leave me”, Vince said, putting his arms around Howard.

“I never want to”, replied Howard, hugging Vince close.

Then the two of them walked inside to have lunch, holding hands. The deck chairs continued looking out over the beach as the morning turned to afternoon, and the different universes pressed their faces against the clear blue sky, as if wanting to see what Howard and Vince were up to in this one.

Howard and Vince didn't notice though. They were too busy enjoying their siesta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave them their own beach house in Majorca because it's Julian's favourite place, so it's a little bit of wish fulfilment. Same with the flat in Kentish Town (giving Julian fantasy places to live seems to be an obsession of mine).
> 
> In real life, Howard and Vince couldn't have got married on the first day same-sex marriage was legal – March 29 2014 – because they already had a civil union. It took about a year for couples with civil unions to be able to marry. So either it was possible in their world, or Howard got special treatment. The story from the BBC is adapted from a real one on the BBC website.
> 
> The characters in Howard's novel "Zoo Days" are named Alan and George, because they were the original names for the characters which became Howard and Vince. His detective Dr Julius Barnard not only has a first name related to Julian, but the surnames Barnard and Barratt are both variations on the name Bernard. I liked the idea that in this universe, Howard and Vince are real people with work problems and mortgages, and Noel and Julian are larger-than-life fictional characters who go on wacky adventures. 
> 
> I noticed that novels shortlisted for The Booker Prize tend to have titles about animals, titles about plants, or long whimsical titles, so I thought "The Moon Cat in the Tamarind Tree" sounded like a sure-fire winner. 
> 
> The Gringo Trail is the name given to those popular tourist destinations in Latin America; in Mexico, roughly from Yucatan to Oaxaca. Puerto Vallarta is a beach resort town in Mexico which is a popular destination for gay travellers.
> 
> Sylvie is adopted by French pop star Sacha Distel (1933-2004) because he seemed like a French version of Bryan Ferry – suave, cool, snappily dressed, and a bit of a sex symbol. I put their home in the Ardennes as that is meant to be one of the inspirations for the Forest of Arden in Shakespeare's plays. Sylvie's childhood seemed much more benign than Vince's, like a Fairyland in the woods, so that she would implicitly trust another Lord of the Forest to raise Vince (although Bryan was much more neglectful, taught Vince to fight wild animals to the death as a small child, and didn't adopt him until he was an adult). Amazingly, Vince is still a Sunshine Kid like his mother, despite his less idyllic childhood. Some of Sylvie's philosophy echoes Anne Frank in her diary – another young girl who had to live in hiding, and was killed by dark forces. Despite her hopefulness, Sylvie signs off with Adieu rather than Au revoir, suggesting she knows in her heart she won't see Vince again, especially if you translate it literally as “I commend you to God”. 
> 
> The final section is a hodgepodge based on the real lives of Noel and Julian, and some of the things they've really said. You can probably work them all out easily enough. When people say their house is “right on the Heath”, they don't literally mean it's on top of Hampstead Heath – they mean it's on a street directly overlooking the Heath. Vince quotes Neil Young's 1977 song “Hey Hey, My My”.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read this all the way through to the end, as it just kept growing and growing as I added extra chapters. It went from a planned 50 000 to 150 000 words, about the length of “Fifty Shades of Grey”. It was a guilty pleasure of mine to write, and if anyone else found pleasure in it, I'm so glad. There's just one more bit to come, and that's a timeline for all the backstory, because I needed to keep track of it all, and thought readers might also find it helpful.


	33. APPENDIX: Timeline of Events Before the Story Begins

**3000 BC**  
First Shaman Council in Britain established around this date.

**1589**  
Naboo born on the planet Xooberon.

**1777**  
Loola born on the planet Xooberon.

**1825**  
Elsie Griggs born in the East End of London.

**1837**  
The Hitcher supposedly born around this date in the East End of London.

**1857**  
Elsie Griggs dies in the East End of London and is buried in Bow Cemetery.

**1925**  
(December 30) Bernard Noir born in Castel Nègre in the south of France.

**1933**  
(January 29) Sacha Distel born in Paris.

**1935**  
(January 28) Alice Noir born.

**1939**  
(September 1) Second World War begins.

**1940**  
Tommy Nooka born in Brighton.

**1942**  
The owner of The Blue Aubergine jazz club born around this date.

**1944**  
(January) Bernard Noir leaves his ancestral village to join the Free French forces.  
(August) Bernard Noir takes part in the liberation of France.

**1945**  
(September 2) Second World War ends.  
(September 26) Bryan Ferry born in county Durham.

**1952**  
(November 18) Bob Fossil born in Omaha, Nebraska (USA).

**1955**  
Bollo born around this date.

**1958**  
(February) American jazz star Dave Brubeck tours the UK.

**1959**  
(September 22) Sylvie Distel-Noir born.

**1960**  
(February 4) Max Noir born to Bernard and Alice Noir.

**1962**  
Sacha Distel finds Sylvie in the woods, and adopts her, bringing her up in his forest hideaway in the Ardennes.

**1964**  
(16-18 May) Tommy Nooka takes part in the infamous Whitsun riots between Mods and Rockers in Brighton.

**1967**  
Sexual acts between men carried out in private decriminalised in England, provided both have reached the age of 21.

**1968**  
(May 4) Howard Moon born in Leeds to Bill and Mary Moon.

**1972**  
Bob Fossil sent to the Vietnam War.

**1973**  
Bob Fossil leaves Vietnam. By some means, he takes refuge in London, while trying to persuade his mother that he is still incarcerated in a Vietnamese prison as a POW.

**1975**  
Sylvie Distel meets the Noir family when they beg Sacha Distel for sanctuary in the woods. Sylvie learns about the outside world, and about evil. She falls in love with Max Noir, and when the Noirs leave, she goes with them.  
Martin and Patrick born around this date.

**1976**  
Howard joins the scouting movement in Leeds, beginning with the Wolf Cubs.

**1977**  
(April) Clare born.  
(July 8) Delia born.

**1978**  
(late February) Leroy Brown born.  
(April) Naboo comes to Earth and becomes the drug dealer of rock duo Rudi & Spider.  
(May 21): Vince Noir born in the East End of London to Max and Sylvie Noir.  
(July) Jahooli the leopard born.

**1979**  
(September) Howard begins attending boarding school at Sexey's School in Somerset. Joins the local Boy Scouts in this region.

**1981**  
(May 22) Vince is found abandoned in the forest by Bryan Ferry, who becomes his foster-father. Bernard, Alice, Sylvie and Max Noir are killed the same day by The Hitcher, although they were able to stop The Hitcher's activities for many years.

**1982**  
(May) Roxy Music release Avalon, their final studio album. It goes to #1 in the UK and several other countries. The title track is a lullaby that Bryan used to sing Vince to sleep.  
(August-September) Bryan touring with Roxy Music in Europe.  
(October) Tommy Nooka reads _Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption_ by Stephen King, which will later give him the idea of tunnelling out of The Hitcher's zoo, covering the evidence with a poster.

**1983**  
(February) Bryan touring with Roxy Music in Japan.  
(April-May) Bryan touring with Roxy Music in USA.

**1984**  
(April) Vince catches his first fish, a trout

**1985**  
(September) Howard is made a prefect and Deputy Head Boy in his last year of school.  
(October) Howard joins a jazz band while still at school.

**1986**  
(July) Howard takes a gap year after finishing school, and begins working as a sanitation inspector in the London sewers to save money for a trip to Europe.  
(August) Vince meets a gorilla named Bollo who is spending his summer holidays in the forest after the failure of his chat show. They both get summer jobs working for a French documentary crew, and become friends.  
(September) Howard begins working as a bin man to save money for university.

**1987**  
(April) Howard leaves on his trip to Europe, beginning by travelling around France.  
(June) Howard travels to Spain, having his first kiss with a fisherman named Pedro, and first fumbling sexual experiences with men on the beaches of Spain.  
(September): Howard begins American Studies at Reading University.  
(October) Howard drops out of university and begins working at the Zooniverse under the head zookeeper, Tommy Nooka. He and Tommy soon become lovers.  
(November) Howard makes friends with Naboo, the shaman at the zoo, and with Bollo the gorilla, who is now a resident at the zoo.

**1988**  
(May) Howard boxes a kangaroo and is horribly mauled, leaving him permanently scarred. Naboo reports the fight to the RSPCA who shut it down, saving Howard's life.  
(June) The Grim Reaper takes Howard to Monkey Heaven, mistaking him for Bollo. A week later, Naboo gets him back, and Bollo dies. Naboo gets Bollo back as well.  
(August-September) Bryan on solo tour in USA and Canada.  
(October) Bryan on solo tour in Japan, New Zealand, and Australia.  
(November-December) Bryan on solo tour in Europe.  
(December) Vince kills his first bear in a hunt; Bryan turns it into a rug for the sleigh.

**1989**  
(April)  
Howard is taken to a Miles Davis concert in Manchester by his father.  
Tommy falls into the ocelot pit, and is declared missing, presumed dead. In actuality, he was pushed in by The Hitcher, who takes him to be the zookeeper of his private zoo.  
Howard falls apart emotionally, and begins receiving counselling from Naboo, who is also the zoo psychiatrist.  
(May) The Zooniverse is sold to Dixon Bainbridge, who installs Bob Fossil as manager. Already grieving for Tommy, Howard struggles to cope being promoted to head zookeeper with nobody to assist him.  
(June onwards) Fossil forces Howard to service him sexually in exchange for money, Howard unwilling to leave the zoo while there is a chance Tommy is still alive. A traumatised Howard gets a misguided and unrequited crush on his colleague, Mrs Gideon.  
(September) Vince begins attending the same boarding school Howard went to. He immediately becomes known for his physical prowess, thanks to his childhood running wild in the forest with animals.

**1990**  
(May) The Zooniverse is sold so a bypass can be put through it. Howard moves into a flat in Dalston just down the street from Naboo, renting it from Bob Fossil. Naboo takes Bollo on as his familiar. Howard forms his own jazz band as a means of supporting himself, also taking deejaying gigs and working as an "escort" to supplement his income.  
(November) Vince first sees _Burning Giraffe_ by Salvador Dali in a book, inspiring him to become an artist.

**1992**  
(April) Vince has first kiss with two girls named Sara and Tara.  
(September) Vince begins vocational certificates in both Art and Hairdressing, doing them alongside his regular schoolwork.  
(December) Vince is taken to the movies, perhaps by Bryan, to see _Aladdin_.

**1993**  
(January)Vince gets crushes on both Terry Nutkins and Michaela Strachan from _The Really Wild Show_ , licking both their photographs in his _Really Wild Show Annual_.  
(April) Howard receives a book contract from Hamilton Cork, based on one sentence he's written, but never gets any further on with it.  
(May) Howard is knocked back for the role of Julian in Simon McFarnaby's play _Autumn Magnets_ , forever damaging their friendship.  
(December) Vince kills a feral dog that was killing animals in the forest.

**1994**  
(April) Vince applies to Clapton Art College and receives a conditional acceptance based on his portfolio and an interview.  
(May) Vince learns about the age of consent in Health class shortly before his 16th birthday. Is either only told about, or only listens to, the part about heterosexual sex.  
(August) Vince receives his GSCE results, only getting good marks for English and Biology. This doesn't stop him from going to art college.  
(September): Vince and Leroy begin attending Clapton Art College in East London, sharing a room at a nearby boarding house for students. Vince quickly becomes very popular with girls at school.  
(October) Vince gets a part-time Saturday morning at a bakery in Clapton, working for Mrs Andrews.  
(November) The age of consent for sexual activity between men is lowered from 21 to 18.

**1995**  
(September): Jahooli the leopard is taken by The Hitcher just after Vince goes back to college.


End file.
